Not Exactly
by Maudey
Summary: Alex always wanted a father. Jack always wanted a husband. Yassen doesn't quite equal the perfect solution, but he's close enough. Jack/Yassen multichapter future MI6 muddling.
1. Night Life

A/N: HEEEY! First Alex Rider fanfic, and I'm super excited. I have to warn you all ahead of time, I have a habit of starting things and then not finishing them, but I have a great plan for this one.

May be slightly OOC...okay, that's a lie, VERY ooc, but I'll try and make it as realistic as possible.

----

Jack had always wanted a husband.

She loved Alex dearly, but somehow the though that the only man in her life was a fourteen year old schoolboy depressed her. She had finally decided that good things don't come to those who wait, and that she needed to advocate for herself in life. Besides, she figured, Alex needed a good male role model.

She studied the teen as he sat at the kitchen counter, finishing up his math homework. He had seemed miserable lately, and it didn't take a psychiatrist to figure out what was wrong. He propped his head up against his arm and ignored the blond hair that fell into his face. Sad brown eyes scanned the worksheet, and he didn't even bother to smile at Jack as she made her way across the room.

Clearly her throat, she became even more agitated when Alex didn't look up.

She rested her hands on the counter top and drummed her finger tips against the granite, but her actions failed to merit a response.

Impatiently she snatched the worksheet away from him and stood with her arms crossed as Alex looked up. Alex could always tell when his guardian was irritated with him. Her eyebrows would furrow and her face turned a red that rivaled her hair color. Her expression matched such a description now.

"Alex Rider! Would you stop sulking around? Can't you see I have an important announcement to make?" Alex smiled slightly in response. Jack's personality never failed to amused him.

"Sorry for being so rude, Jack. What was it you wanted to tell me?" Alex feigned interest, mainly set on retrieving his math homework.

"I've becided to go bar hopping!" Jack beamed.

"Excuse me?" Alex was not, not in a million years, expecting to hear that.

"You heard me correct Alex...bar hopping!" Jack could no longer contain her glee. "Think about it Alex, where do all the hot, young, single, British and sometimes multicultural men hang out?"

"...um, sorry Jack...I wouldn't know," Alex shrugged.

"Nightclubs, bars...pubs, whatever you British lot call them..." Alex was about to remark that the only men he ever saw in pubs were drunken old ones, but he kept quiet for Jack's sake, "I'm going to find my perfect match, Alex. I've been cooped up in this house for too long! I need a little romance in my life."

Alex made a face at the thought, grabbing his math paper back from Jack and shoving into his bookbag.

"I've heard enough Jack!" He raised his hands dramatically, pretending to surrender, "Do what you want, but please, PLEASE do not give me the details of your love life." Jack laughed, pulling in Alex for a tight hug. Choking under her tight grip, Alex wondered if the situation required his MI6 training. Finally, she let she go and gazed at him fondly.

"But seriously Alex, if I do find someone I promise I won't just leave you behind. I'll always be there, OK Kiddo?" Jack gave him a reassuring smile. Alex sighed, he was too used to adults breaking their promises.

---

It felt good to wear makeup again, Jack thought as she stepped out into the cool British night air. Alex had helped her pick out an outfit (he had surprisingly good taste for a boy) and they had decided on a bright yellow knee length dress. With her hair done up nicely, she couldn't help but smile as she caught her reflection in a car window. Flagging down a taxi, she headed into London and decided on a bar that had a good deal of potential.

Tipping the driver, she made her way into the "bar". Bright neon lights and the sound of popular music gave the bar the feel of a nightclub. Sometimes, Jack liked to pretend that she wasn't the worried caretaker of teenage spy. Not that she was normal, no, that was much to boring for Jack. Perhaps a celebrity, or a model. She certainly wasn't ugly.

Then again, if she had wanted to be a model, she wouldn't have gone to law school.

Stepping into to the bar, she was greeting by the sound of chatter mixed with loud music. Putting on her best smile, she slid up to the bar. In her yellow dress and bright blue high heels, she felt as though she was the star of some Las Vegas themed movie. Ordering herself a drink, she sipped on it slowly and inspected the night club's customers. Jack decided that there weren't too many prospective boyfriends, and decided that perhaps she was better off leaving.

Then something magical happened. At the other end of the bar, Jack spotted a blond haired man sitting alone and looking extremely out of his element. He was confident, Jack decided, but seemed as though he didn't quite fit in with the noisy atmosphere. Jack downed the rest of her drink, prayed quickly for confidence, and placed her trust in Alex's taste in clothing as she made her way next to him.

The man ignored Jack, continuing to sit at the bar and not drink anything. Jack decided that that the only possibly option she had was to avoid an awkward situation and order a drink for herself. Another martini later, the man still had not said a work and Jack's judgement had been seriously impared by the large amount of alcohol she had consumed.

"Sir," Jack said, trying to get the man's attention. He continued to ignore her, "Excuse me sir!" She tapped him on the shoulder, not willing to give up just yet. The man finally turned around to look at her, the expression on his face remaining unchanged. Feeling slightly tipsy and even more agitated, Jack stood up from her seat.

"Excuse me, buddy, but do I look ugly to you?" Jack placed a hand on her hip and jabbed a finger at herself. The only response the man gave was a slight twitch in the corner of his lips. "Because thanks to you, I've managed to chug down an entire martini and waste my one free night sitting next to guy who is about as exciting as watching paint dry!" If the man was offended, he didn't show it. After a slight pause, the man finally spoke.

"Yes, and what do you want me to do about it?" The man's tone was expressionless, but not rude. Perhaps Jack was imagining, but there might have been an underlying hint of amusement to it.

"Well," Jack sniffed, straightening up to her full height. "The least that you could do is buy me a drink."

"I think you've already had enough of that." The man raised an eyebrow.

"A ride home?" Jack asked hopefully.

"I walked."

"A phone number?" The man thought for a moment and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. Scratching a number down on a napkin, he folded it and gave it to Jack. Speechlessly, she took the number, hardly believing her luck, "Thank you..." She turned around and carefully placed it in her purse for safe keeping. She had only looked away for a split second, but by the time she was done, the man was gone.

---

A/N: Review! First chapter might be a little boring, but I promise it will heat up a bit and there will be a lot more of Yassen!


	2. Dial Tone

"It's not a real number, it's not a real number, it's not a real number…" Jack had been working up courage for the past three hours. Four times she had tried to pick up the phone and once she had even dialed a few numbers, but every time she had failed.

"Jack," Alex looked at her, slightly concerned, "I don't think you quite understand the concept of self motivation…"

"Kid, I was half drunk when I got the number, I hardly remember any of it! It has to be a fake. It's too good to be true! I'm just preparing myself for the crushing disappointment," Alex shrugged in response to Jack's tirade.

It was Saturday morning and after finishing his breakfast, Alex had sat on the couch and watched Jack's antics. He had been asleep the night before when she came stumbling over the doorstep, and had awoken to find her jubilantly crying out and holding up a slip of paper. Her mood had rapidly diminished as the day wore on.

"What was his name?" Alex tried to distract Jack from where she sat muttering, bent over the phone. It worked relatively well.

"Oh, we didn't get that far…" Jack replied casually, not noticing Alex's bewildered expression.

"Well you're not going to get any farther if you don't call him." Alex stood up decisively. Suddenly realizing the implications of his statement, he blushed a deep shade of red, "I…er…I didn't mean it like…well, you know…"

"No, kid, you're right, I need to call him," She picked the phone off its hook and paused. She quickly passed it off to Alex and handed him the number, "You call him."

Alex snorted but took the phone and dialed, tossing it back to Jack as it began to ring. Jack shoed him out of the room and sprawled out over the couch, rehearsing what she was going to say.

A man answered the phone in a string of Russian. _A fake number_, Jack sighed, _of course_. Despite the disappointment, Jack realized that it would be impolite not to answer.

"Hello, is this…" Jack searched for a name, but then she remembered that she had no name for the blonde haired stranger.

"Hello, I apologize for my Russian. I assumed you were someone else." Jack's heart leapt at the sound of the voice on the other end of the conversation. It sounded vaguely familiar. In her excitement, she stumbled through her next sentence.

"Yeah, hey…this is, um, Jack. I mean, I met you in a bar…last night. And you gave me this number so I called it and…" And what? Jack inwardly groaned, realizing that she hadn't thought things out as well as she had hoped.

"And?" The voice replied.

"What do you mean 'and'?" Jack huffed.

"Well, I think it is quite simple. You asked for my number, therefore I gave you my number and now you expect me to understand why you asked me in first place." Jack thought about it for a moment, wondering if the man was teasing her. His tone betrayed nothing.

"I guess a name would be nice." Jack shrugged. There was a pause from the other line and then a curt reply.

"Yassen,"

"Yassen what?" Jack prodded.

"Yassen will be fine." The reply seemed colder this time. Jack decided to push the issue to the side for now. There was an awkward pause (at least on Jack's end) for a few moments before he finally spoke again, "Is that all that you wanted?"

"Well, Yassen…" Jack liked the way his name sounded. It seemed Chinese…or maybe Russian, Jack didn't have the slightest clue. Whatever the nationality, it seemed to suit the formal, blond haired stranger she had met in the bar, "I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me."

Jack decided that it was no use to beat around the bush any longer than needed. She held her breathe and waited for a response. Finally one came.

"I have a very busy traveling schedule. However, I suppose I could allow some time for a…date," Yassen sounded amused, but in a sardonic sort of way, "Volt Restaurant in Hobart, tomorrow at six thirty."

There was a click and the line went dead. Jack was in shock. A shaky hand still held the phone to her ear. The invitation had sounded more like a demand, and yet Jack wasn't complaining. Volt was a high class place.

Alex peeked his head from around the doorway, grinning slightly at Jack's expression. Prying the phone out of her hands, he set it down with a click.

"So, how did it go?" Alex questioned. Jack finally broke into a grin and swept Alex up into a huge hug.

"Great, kid! Fantastic! I got myself a date!" Jack shouted and jumped up and down, a disheveled Alex still in her arms, "You'd best get some plans for tomorrow night, because I won't be home!"

"Yeah right, I don't have any friends to make plans with," Alex murmured to himself. Jack pretended she didn't hear it, but secretly her heart ached at Alex's plight. Sighing, she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze.

"Hey kid, maybe it's better that you don't have plans…after all, I still need someone to help pick out my outfit!" She winked. Alex tried his best to look enthusiastic, but his attempt fell flat.

All day Jack tried to tidy up the house and help Alex with school work. Still, questions about Yassen kept returning to her. He seemed so mysterious and, frankly, it was driving her nuts. She decided that tomorrow she would find out everything she could about her new date.

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**A/N:** I'd just like to say, you guys are amazing! XD Seriously, do you know how many reviews per chapter I get on average? Two, or three when I'm lucky (or one when I'm unlucky).

Thank you so much! I should have started writing for the Alex Rider fandom long ago, you guys are the BEST! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! I'll try and make their date more exciting (of course it will be more exciting, Yassen is in it lol).

Oh, and this story takes place after Snakehead...


	3. Voltage

Yassen Gregorovich was always on time.

The past thirteen years of his life had been about never making a mistake. Lateness showed laziness and laziness led to error.

Error such as getting too sympathetic toward an old mentor's son and ending up nearly killed on a plane.

In the end Yassen really couldn't have planned it better himself. He had been getting ready to sever his ties with Scorpia (God only knew what "retirement" entailed when dealing with Julia Rothman) and his near death experience had allowed him to easily fool Scorpia into thinking he was no longer living.

Now Yassen had taken to freelance projects. He made his money by carrying out assassinations for the highest bidder while always being careful that his line of work took him nowhere near Scorpia. Alex had taken care of his Julia Rothman problem.

Alex.

Yassen winced as an image of the kid's face came to mind. Yassen never forgot a face, and he could picture John's as clear as day. Alex's resembled his almost perfectly. Yassen had found out later that John hadn't really worked for Scorpia and felt just the slightest pang of guilt at sending Alex off to what should have been his death.

Despite John's ties to MI6, Yassen never doubted that his training (and what could have been considered friendship) was completely genuine. Yassen idolized John. Being the youngest Scorpia agent in training at eighteen, he had needed a role model and John had fit the bill. He never made a mistake and seemed to have everything together in his life. Yassen knew he had a family, a wife named Helen and a son.

Perhaps even after thirteen years Yassen still desired to be just like John.

Straitening his tie, he checked his appearance in the mirror once more and allowed himself a rare smile. He felt so…normal. He wasn't quite sure why he had agreed to go on a date with the American girl. He hated Americans and he hated loud obnoxious ones even more; however, Jack was amusing and Yassen was willing to give it a try.

Checking his appearance one more time, he slipped his wallet into his back pocket, surveyed the hotel room, and strode out into the chilly fall air.

---

"Shit, Alex! God, I'm late!" Jack was pulling on a high heel and stumbling out into the living room. Checking her appearance in hallway mirror, she groaned, "Alex, this is horrible! I look like the freaking Swedish flag!" She frantically messed with her red locks, trying to arrange them somewhat neatly.

"Just get out, Jack!" Alex laughed, shoving her out the door and nearly sending her sprawling in her blue heels.

Jack tried to control her breathing as she rushed into the car and fumbled with the key. Finally she got it started and checked the clock. It said six twenty eight. Swearing as she slammed on the gas and veered out into the road, she rushed towards the restaurant.

---

Volt Restaurant in Hobart was upscale and modern. Jack's mouth dropped at the sight of the interior and she nearly stumbled over the raised platform as she followed the waiter to her seat. Yassen was already sitting down, dressed sharply in a white suit and tie. Jack felt slightly tacky sitting next to his expensive looking getup.

"You're late. That's very distasteful." Yassen glanced at his watch for emphasis. Jack gritted her teeth, determined not to start the date on a bad foot.

"Yes, well, so is not telling your date what your last name is." Jack came up with the best reply she could. Yassen ignored her, opening the menu. Awkwardly, Jack attempted to start a conversation.

"So, Yassen, you seem like a man who travels a lot, where are you from?" Jack said as she scanned the menu.

"Russia." Short and simple.

"Ah…I hear it's really…cold," Jack wanted to bang her head on the table. Yassen didn't look up from his menu, simply raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, it is."

"What brought you to England?" Jack asked.

"Business."

"Right…let me guess, something to do with nuclear weaponry, right?" Jack joked.

"Business."

Jack sighed, a sound that was clearly audible from Yassen's side of the table. His lips twitched slightly at her reaction, and Jack wondered if it was as much of a smile as she would get. The waiter arrived in time to stop Jack from leaping across the table at Yassen, and she ordered a large glass of wine. Yassen simply ordered water.

"Don't you drink?" Jack asked, genuinely curious.

"No."

"Why not?" Jack realized that she was being awfully rude, but she couldn't help herself.

"Alcohol causes poor judgment and reduces coordination. It turns men into idiots," Yassen replied casually. Jack was fascinated by the way he spoke. He sounded intelligent and sophisticated, and yet there was some type of underlying humor in his voice that Jack was determined to discover.

"Well, I guess I don't have to worry about that because I'm a woman!" Jack took a large swig of her wine, grinning mischievously. Yassen raised an eyebrow and the corners of his lips rose slightly in what Jack decided to consider a smile.

"I've noticed." The reply sounded almost suggestive. Jack nearly choked on her wine. Setting her glass down she coughed, trying to clear her throat as Yassen patted her on the back in an attempt at helping, "Are you okay, Jack?"

"Yeah, 'm fine…" Jack finished coughing and took another drink to clear her throat. Yassen's blue eyes seemed to laugh at her and she nearly started to laugh herself.

"So, Jack, I don't believe you ever told me your full name either…"

"Oh, right! Jacqueline Starbright, but Jack is fine." Jack smiled, "I think it suits me better."

"And where are you from, Jack?"

"America, Chicago to be exact. My family still lives there. I came over to England to study law and got a job as a housekeeper." Jack chuckled lightly, "It turned into more of a fulltime job than I expected and I guess I never left."

The waiter had come back and Jack and Yassen placed their orders. Jack noticed that Yassen ate very little. Jack, on the other hand, loved to eat and ordered the largest meal she could.

"And do you continue to study law?" Yassen asked, looking amused at some joke that was unknown to Jack, "Spread social justice and work for the cause, is that your intention?"

"Are you making fun of me?" Jack frowned, then shrugged, "Well, I guess it doesn't matter now. I used to be all into that, but law wasn't all it was cut out to be. It isn't even about whether people are good or bad. I found out that 'not guilty' didn't always mean innocent." Jack sighed, "I don't know…I gave up on the college thing long ago. I've lost almost all faith in the government and justice."

Jack felt a pang of sadness as she thought back to Alex. Yassen seemed to study her carefully and an intense silence lingered between them. Eventually the waiter ended it as he arrived with their food.

"You are very intelligent for an American." He said nothing else as he began to eat. Jack decided to take it as a compliment and sat up proudly in her seat with a grin.

"Yeah, well, you're pretty sweet, especially for a Russian." Jack nudged him and winked. Yassen tensed slightly at the touch, but ignored it and continued eating.

"You have no idea," He murmured and Jack fretted, wondering if her comment had offended him. Yassen was meanwhile reflecting on the irony of the situation. He was an assassin dating a law student.

"Will you be in England for long?" Jack asked after a long pause.

"Perhaps. My business is very unpredictable. I could be in England for a month or maybe a few more hours." Jack was slightly disappointed, but she tried not to show it. All at once Yassen had retreated into his cold shell.

The rest of dinner, Jack continued to get one word answers to any of her questions. Another glass of wine later, she was at her wit's end. Yassen was attractive and Jack was sure he possessed some form of personality, but he seemed completely unresponsive.

Yassen picked up the tab and Jack tried not to gape as he handed over a large stack of money to the waiter.

"Where did you get that?" Jack asked, amazed. The dinner had been by no means inexpensive and Yassen had paid for it in cash.

"Business." Jack felt like everything she said continued to dig her deeper and deeper into a hole.

Yassen stood up, dusting himself off and beginning to make his way to the door. Jack jumped up angrily and rushed after him. Grabbing his arm roughly, she was shocked to feel the hard muscle underneath his sleeve. Her surprise only suspended her anger temporarily, and she spun Yassen around to face her.

"Is that it?" Jack demanded furiously, her face turning beat red.

"We had dinner and now I am leaving. So yes, that is it." Yassen said coolly.

"Well," Jack fumed, "That's just…fabulous. That's about the most elaborate answer I've gotten from you all night!" Jack didn't care if she was making a scene, she was furious.

"Well?" Yassen cocked his head, only adding fuel to her anger.

"Well? Well? You've been absolutely rude to me this entire time. You didn't laugh at any of my jokes, you didn't talk at all during dinner, and you didn't even tell me your last name!" Jack's voice had raised quite a few decibels.

"Is that a problem?" Jack had finally reached her breaking point. Lifting her hand angrily, she slapped Yassen across the face. He seemed speechless for a moment and his pale cheek was already turning a shade of red to match Jack's hair.

Jack turned on her heel and stormed towards the door of the restaurant. Suddenly, a loud laugh erupted from behind her. Yassen rushed after her and stopped her in the parking lot, still chuckling as he reached her side.

"Wait, Jack!" He sounded out of breath from laughing. Jack stopped and turned around to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. He smiled at her and held out a pen and paper, "I don't believe I ever got your phone number."

---

"How did it go?" Alex was flicking through television channels when Jack arrived back home.

"Great!" Jack slung herself onto the couch and kicked off her heels, "We had dinner, chatted…he got me so angry I slapped him across the face and I'm seeing him again next Tuesday for another date."

Alex shook his head in wonderment.

"I swear to God, Jack, I'll never understand you!" He laughed and the two spent the next couple of hours scanning the television before falling asleep on the couch.

---

A/N: So I should be writing a thesis paper, but I couldn't help but update…I have a great idea for another chapter that I'm super excited about! This chapter is dedicated to **Wolfmonster** for the brilliant idea…thank you! I had a blast with it! Seriously though, I'm completely open to any ideas you guys have to offer!

Oh and a quick note in an answer to some confusion, Alex never heard Jack say what her date's name was…that will come later! *evil grin* Review if you liked (or if you didn't lol)!


	4. Sparks Will Fly

Jack winced at the sight of Yassen's cheek, still red from where she had slapped it even after a month and a half had gone by. Fingering the bruise, she avoided his sharp blue eyes sheepishly.

"Uh…yeah…sorry about that…" She had apologized multiple times and tonight, with her face close enough to inspect the damage, she couldn't help but apologize again.

Suddenly Yassen drew an arm around her back and pulled her in close to him. She could feel the scratchy cotton of his shirt and she clutched at it, using it to draw herself up and brush her lips against Yassen's. After a few moments she broke the kiss breathlessly and grinned.

"Forgiven?"

"Not quite yet," Jack couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but she decided that it didn't really matter. It wasn't until a few minutes later that Jack finally left the car. Bending over, she leaned against the side of the door and gazed at Yassen, enraptured by the handsome details of his face.

"Good bye Yassen."

"Good bye Jack."

That had become their regular farewell. Yassen was not one to make a move. He never kissed Jack (but then again he certainly didn't object when she did) and never flowered her with compliments. He was romantic in other ways, Jack had decided. He traveled a lot and always sent back gifts for Jack and often times for Alex. He knew Alex liked soccer and had sent back a jersey signed by Franck Ribery on one of his trips to Germany. Jack's gifts were even more extravagant. Hand made batik silk clothing from India and a stunning Swarvoski crystal necklace from Austria were only a sampling of the gifts Jack enjoyed.

It wasn't just the presents that Jack loved. She loved how Yassen actually listened to her talk (unlike her other boyfriends who had tuned out her ceaseless chatter) and she loved how thoughtful he was without being pretentious about it. In fact, Jack was beginning to find that she loved everything about him.

It was on a Saturday that Jack decided it was time for Alex to meet Yassen. Yassen was on a business trip in Syria and Jack had brought in a package addressed to "Miss Jacqueline Starbright". The address was typed, but the notes were always handwritten. She could identify Yassen's handwriting easily. It was neat and sharp and she always liked it when he wrote her name.

"Look, Alex!" Jack called from the kitchen, waving the package up and down for him to see, "We got another package from Syria..."

Opening it up, she pulled out the note that lay on top of a wrapped bundle and began to read. Alex wandered into the kitchen, his book bag scraping across the floor behind him. After a few moments of looking at the package, Alex looked up suddenly.

"Jack...what exactly is your..._friend's_ name?" Alex couldn't believe he hadn't thought to ask her before. He'd been away for a week with Sabina during fall break and an unexpected mission had soon followed. Between schoolwork and MI6, he barely had time to worry about Jack's personal life. Her boyfriend seemed to keep her happy and less worried about the painful bruises Alex had acquired from his last mission.

Jack seemed equally as shocked.

"I can't believe I haven't told you!" She placed the note to the side and sat down heavily beside him on the bar stool, "I guess with everything that has been going on lately I didn't even realize you didn't know..."

It seemed awkward to simply say his name at the moment, so Jack decided to preface it with a bit about her boyfriend. Trying to catch Alex up on what he had missed and making it as normal as possible, Jack poured cereal for Alex as she talked.

"Well, he's very charming. Sort of the strong and silent type, kind of like you...he's from Russia...actually I don't really know his last name," Jack shrugged, "But it's probably something Russian."

Alex chuckled, but it seemed forced. His eyes barely lit up at Jack's joke. Jack pretended she didn't notice and continued as Alex took a spoonful of his cereal.

"Anyway, his name's Yassen..."

Jack didn't get any further as Alex choked on his spoonful of cereal and desperately tried to swallow. Jack pounded him on his back and after a few moments Alex recovered.

"Yassen?" Alex gasped as soon as his breath had returned.

"Yeah...why, is there something wrong with that name?" Jack asked, puzzled at Alex's behavior. She had forgotten completely about their conversation during his Eagle Strike mission that concerned a Russian by the same name. Alex decided that it was no use dragging MI6 into this. He wasn't going to let his spying activities get him paranoid.

Yassen was a contract killer. Yassen was not into personal relationships. And most importantly, Yassen was dead.

"No. I just...it's weird is all," In more ways than one, Alex thought darkly to himself.

"I think Yassen is a charming name!" Jack defended her boyfriend. After a moment's pause, Jack's face lit up in excitement, "You know, Alex, I think it's time you met him! I'll have him come to the house for dinner next Thursday."

Alex winced. Even though the name was merely a coincidence, he had no desire to meet someone who even shared the name of the Russian assassin.

"I, uh, sure, Jack...I'll help with the cooking," Alex tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. He knew there was nothing else he could do if he wanted to make Jack happy. Jack was the only adult who actually cared about his well being, and he wasn't about to throw her happiness out the window just because he had sold his soul to MI6. Jack noticed his expression.

"God, Alex, cooking isn't that bad!" She laughed.

---

Alex was having a horrible day.

He often came home tired and worn down and today was no exception. His body ached anytime he moved and sitting in chair all day didn't help the soreness at all. Not being able to carry drugs in school was another problem. Alex looked forward to weekends, but not because he wanted to sleep in until twelve or hang out with his friends. Instead, he looked forward to taking ibuprofen at regular two hour intervals.

Homework, teachers, teasing and soccer practice all made the day even more miserable. Sometimes Alex wasn't sure what was worse, being a teenager or being a spy. He knew that he could have settled just for one.

He had got to school only to realize that he was behind in Chem and failing English. His math teacher had taken him aside and given him a stern lecture about the importance of being in school regularly in order to keep up with the rest of the class. The gossip was even worse. People didn't even bother gossiping about him behind his back anymore. They simply ignored the fact that he even existed. His soccer coach made him do extra laps for missing so much practice, and each breath made his chest ache from the bullet wound. It had begun to rain lightly as he dragged his bike through the mud, waving goodbye unenthusiastically to Tom (the only good friend he had).

Judging on the way his day had been going, Alex decided he would probably come home to meet Jack's boyfriend and find out he was some creepy Alan Blunt replica (this of course conjured up unpleasant images of Jack and Blunt that were very unnecessary). Completely lost in his train of thought, Alex didn't even notice the group of sneering boys that had planted themselves in front of him.

"Where do you think you're going, Alex?" The tallest one, Sean (Alex knew him by reputation) leaned over and grabbed onto Alex's handle bars, stopping him in place.

"Leave me alone," Alex jerked his bike out of the taller teen's hands and tried to steer it around him. He was blocked by two of Sean's friends. Sean had a personal vendetta against Alex after he had taken his position on the soccer team despite being a year younger. Alex was beginning to wonder if there was something about him that attracted trouble.

"Why, Alex?" Sean laughed and Alex gasped as he was forced up against a brick wall, taken completely by surprise. He cursed MI6 and their training which had seemingly taught him nothing, "I thought that you'd enjoy a little company since half the school thinks you're a freak…" Sean mocked him.

Night was setting in and Alex knew Jack would have a fit if he rode his bike home in the dark. Sean laughed at his own joke and Alex wished he could punch him in the face. Unfortunately, he was shorter and lighter than the older teen. He found himself surrounded by Sean's friends, their expressions matching Sean's perfectly.

"Here's the thing, kid," Sean pushed Alex up against the wall even harder. No amount of struggling on Alex's part was making any difference, "There's a little something called seniority. I have it and you don't. So you may think you can play soccer better than I can, but really you're just a shitty little brat who thinks he can kick a ball."

"Is that why coach lets me start?" Alex knew he was going to pay for his comment before the punch even came. He found himself doubled over and gasping for breath. Clutching his ribs, he wondered if Sean had cracked them. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the pain and the laughter that followed. His head was yanked back so that he was looking up at Sean. Alex noticed that the older boy wasn't laughing, instead he looked furious.

"Shut up!" Sean hauled Alex up and threw him into the wall. Alex barely managed to twist around and stop his face from smashing into the rough stone before he crashed into in. Groaning, he slid down the length of the wall, still clutching at his stomach. Satisfied that Alex was miserable enough, Sean grabbed onto Alex's shoulder and forced him so that his back was against the wall and he was once again looking at the upperclassman.

"Well Alex, I hope you remember our little..._discussion_," Sean's friends laughed as though on cue and Sean smiled grimly, "next time you decide to come to practice."

Even after the boys had moved away, Alex sat in the rain, doubled over in pain. He breathed carefully, trying to ignore the sickly feeling that came every time his diaphragm expanded with air. Eventually he was able to clamber onto his bike and ride off into the pouring rain.

He was glad Jack was busy in the kitchen when he arrived at home. He didn't want to explain what had happened. Going up to this room, he peeled off his wet soccer uniform. Fortunately, there was only bruising and no blood. Alex didn't want to come up with an excuse for why his jersey had come to be stained red.

To take his mind off his throbbing ribs, Alex tried to picture what Jack's boyfriend would look like; however, every time he tried an image of Yassen Gregorovich came to mind. Sighing, Alex turned on his side and decided that it was going to be a long night.

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

---

A/N: "Well, Mr. E, the reason I didn't get my thesis paper in is because I was writing Alex Rider fan fiction"...lol, do you think he'll buy it? Tomorrow's due date is going to be the best and worst day of my life. I'll leave you to ponder that statement as you review my story! XD

I hope you enjoyed it! I really really appreciate everyone who reviewed. I just rewatched Stormbreaker with my friend (who is from England and originally introduced me to Alex Rider) so hopefully my character portrayal will improve (I'm telling myself it is okay to treat the movie characters as official since AH wrote the script! XD) Oh, and as of now on all chapters will be named after Rolling Stone's songs (because they are the shiz)


	5. Too Tight

A/N: Sorry, but I'm afraid this story will be discontinued.

Hehe, just kidding…

---

"Alex, could you get the door?" Jack's voice reached Alex from where he lay sprawled out across his bed. He could hear pots and pans clanging in the kitchen from where Jack was finishing her meal of Thai pasta with vegetables.

It smelled delicious but the thought of swallowing any large amount of food made Alex's ribs moan with pain.

"Sure…" Alex tried to yell back weakly.

"Alex!" Alex decided that Jack really was trying to kill him with this dinner date she had planned.

"Yeah, Jack!" He tried again and fortunately (for his aching diaphragm) she heard him the second time. Dragging himself down the steps, he held onto the rail for support. He finally made it to the door as the bell rang a second time. Feeling a sudden wave of nervousness, he smoothed out his shirt and made sure his hair was in place.

He swung open the door and stood speechless in the archway.

It was at that very moment that Alex found himself wishing that Alan Blunt was indeed Jack's new boyfriend.

"Alex," Yassen nodded as the teen quickly recovered.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Alex hissed, immediately going into a defensive position. Alex didn't doubt for one moment that Yassen had somehow managed to survive the bullet wound. He could not have mistaken the blond assassin's set jaw line and clear blue eyes even from a mile away.

"I'm here to have dinner with a Miss Jacqueline Starbright and to meet her young dependent Alex." Yassen replied calmly. Alex flinched under the assassins appraising gaze. Unpleasant memories of the Eagle Strike mission came flooding back and the spy's attention was temporarily distracted. Before he realized it, Yassen had brushed past him and was inside the house, already hanging up his coat.

This quickly snapped Alex back to reality.

"But really, what are you doing here?" Alex insisted, muttering under his breath so that Jack (who was still busy in the kitchen) wouldn't hear.

"Exactly what I said," Yassen shrugged. Alex noticed that what little Russian accent he had seemed even less noticeable. He had been spending more time in England. Yassen walked slowly through the entrance hallway, looking at the family photos Ian had hung on the wall. Yassen lingered by one of John, studying it more carefully than the others. Alex felt like ripping the photos off the wall. "Though I do find it curiously ironic that you are in fact the 'Alex' Jack spoke of. I should have looked into that ahead of time. That will complicate things quite a lot."

Yassen was now looking at a picture of Alex at Tom's eighth birthday party. It was possibly the most embarrassing picture Alex had ever seen. There was blue icing everywhere as Tom had decided that throwing the cake was much more fun than eating it. Tom's older brother had taken the picture and Jack had loved it so much that she had insisted on framing it. The assassin looked amused and Alex wanted to crawl under a rug.

Deciding that he wasn't going to get a straight answer from Yassen, Alex moved on to another question.

"How come you aren't dead?" the question was blunt, but Alex hoped to distract Yassen's attention from the photographs.

"Good luck I suppose. Ambulances were already at the scene. Cray was a very bad shot." Something cruel flickered behind Yassen's eyes at the mention of Cray and Alex shivered, unable to help himself. The cold silence that had settled in the room was shattered as Jack popped out of the kitchen.

"Alex! You've already met Yassen! Great...I hope everything is alright," Jack hurried into the room, her hair a wild mess of red and an apron over her black evening dress.

"It's quite fine, thank you." Yassen nodded and Jack threw her arms around his neck in greeting.

"It's great to have you back…I loved the tapestry rug you sent from Afghanistan." Jack stood on her toes and pressed her lips against Yassen's, all too conveniently forgetting about Alex.

Her kiss was cut short by the buzzing of a kitchen timer. Ushering the two into the dining room, Jack ran in the direction of the kitchen. "You can make yourself comfy...I'll be back with the food in a second!"

It was perhaps the weirdest display of affection that Alex had ever seen.

It seemed natural in some ways. If his parents had been alive, Alex imaged that Helen would have welcomed John home with a kiss and then shepherd him into the dining room where they would have chatting about their day over a home cooked meal.

And then there was Yassen, one of Scorpia's most talented assassins and wanted by almost every intelligence agency in the world, kissing Jack, Alex's American housekeeper. Alex wasn't sure what to make of it.

Feeling slightly confused (and still very much in pain) Alex helped himself into a seat across from Yassen. He could feel the assassin's eyes boring into him, and the spy took a drink of water in desperate attempt to clear his head. The next few moments passed in silence. Alex didn't know where to begin. Finally Jack arrived with the food and sat down to eat.

"So, Yassen, how long are you going to be in England?" Jack asked, oblivious to the tension in the room.

"A week. I am heading to France for a business trip on the ninth." Yassen replied. Alex almost rolled his eyes. He didn't need to guess what was happening on this so called 'business trip'. He wondered how long Jack would buy his excuse.

"Great! Alex has a soccer game on Tuesday, you should come…wouldn't that be fun?" Alex wondered if she wanted his actual opinion. Having Yassen come to his soccer game would be about as fun as eating dinner with Julia Rothman. He decided that lying was the best policy.

"Yeah, I guess…" He twirled his pasta around with his fork, wishing that Sean had knocked him unconscious.

"It's a shame you aren't around more, Yassen." Jack mumbled through a mouthful of food, "Really, I'm bet you both will love each other once you spend some time together…" Alex wished desperately that Jack would shut up. It seemed as though she had a case of foot in mouth disease. Of course, she was completely unaware of it.

"You and Alex should come to France with me." Yassen suggested calmly, unaffected by Jack's comparison. In fact, he seemed almost proud of it. "There is a soccer tournament going on while I am there and I am renting a small house in Normandy. Although I'm afraid the beaches are a bit cold this time of year the town is still very interesting."

Alex wondered if it was a trap. Somehow it seemed too obvious. That only left one other alternative, and that was that Yassen really wanted to spend vacation time with Alex and Jack. Either way, the spy decided it wasn't going to happen.

"No thanks, I'm more partial to Venice myself." Alex said coolly.

"Alex!" Jack laughed, somewhat confused as she reprimanded the teen. "That would be amazing Yassen! As long as Alex doesn't have too much homework…"

Alex decided that silence was golden.

"Well, we'll have to see," Jack glared at Alex from across the table and kicked him in the shin with the point of her heel. She quickly changed the subject, "I'm so glad you're back in England, Yassen. Afghanistan seems like an awful country…all those bombs and terrorists and shit, thank God you weren't shot!"

Alex could have died then and there. Jack, unknowing of the irony of her words, left the room to get some water.

"You look like your father when one of his students did something particularly stupid." Yassen commented quietly.

"No, no, stop it!" Alex insisted angrily. Somehow the idea that Yassen and his father had actually been 'friends' (and even now Alex didn't doubt it) made the situation even more unusual. "I don't know what you and Scorpia have planned, but…"

"I can assure you Scorpia has nothing to do with it," Yassen held up a hand as he interrupted Alex's angry stream of words. "I severed ties with them after my accident."

"You can't expect me to believe that this is a coincidence." Alex stood up furiously and immediately regretted it as his ribs protested with pain.

"Fate, perhaps…" Yassen looked off thoughtfully.

At that moment Alex came to a horrible realization. Jack and Yassen truly were an item, a fact that had absolutely nothing to do with him, or MI6, or Scorpia. Alex found himself experiencing a sensation of relief mixed with nausea. Yassen, seemingly oblivious to the spy's epitaph, gestured toward Alex's stomach. "What is wrong with your ribs?"

The question caught Alex off guard and he sat back down, all his previous anger gone.

"Just some kid at school…it's not a big deal," Alex brushed it off.

"And you let him get away with it?" Yassen seemed curious, leaning forward eagerly in his seat and studying the teen carefully. Knowing that Yassen compared the spy's every movement with his father's made Alex feel like a caged animal test subject. Shrugging off the feeling, he tried to ignore the assassin's ice blue eyes.

"Yeah, well, I can't exactly go MI6 on him, can I?" Alex sighed, subconsciously rubbing his sore ribcage, "I'm so tired of fighting people." He added quietly, not meaning for Yassen to hear.

Yassen leaned back in his seat thoughtfully as Jack returned with her water.

Oddly enough, the rest of the evening seemed almost normal to Alex. Yassen's intense gaze had returned to Jack (much to her delight) and the conversation was light. They talked about Alex's teachers, Jack's shopping trips, and very little about anything to do with Yassen's 'job'.

At the end of the night, Jack gave Yassen a goodnight kiss (something that Alex was sure would never seem normal to him) and waved goodbye. Yassen left with a promise to come to Alex's soccer game the next Tuesday.

After the door had closed, Jack jumped up and down giddily. Alex had no trouble picturing her as a teenager girl who had just received her first kiss.

"So, kid, what do you think…isn't he amazing?" Jack beamed.

There were many things Alex could have said and probably should have said, but at the moment he didn't even know where to start. Nothing had happened. Jack was fine. He was fine. If Yassen wanted to kill them, he would have already done it. There was no point in ruining Jack's fun...and what Alex realized was more than just fun. Jack and Yassen seemed to genuinely like each other.

And there was a selfish part of Alex that despised MI6 and didn't give a shit about what would have been expected of him. He wasn't one of their agents and they hadn't listened to him in the past. There was no reason to drag them into this.

"Well, Alex?" Jack prompted. Alex finally shrugged, giving Jack a halfhearted grin.

"You sure know how to pick them, Jack."

---

A/N: I hope I didn't disappoint you all! I'm really nervous about this chapter…since it is a pretty crucial chapter. I actually thought it was a little bit boring. Too much dialogue for my taste. Don't worry though, things will continue to get exciting. I've had the next chapter planned for a long time! XD I really hope everyone was in character (or at least as much as possible lol)

Oh, and sorry the update took a while...I got distracted watching Frost/Nixon...


	6. Brand New Car

"Shit, Alex, I can't believe she's actually dating someone!" Tom swore as he and Alex jogged around the sidelines. Alex glanced across the field to where Jack stood, dressed neatly in white khakis and a colorful shirt with a large pair of Gucci sunglasses resting atop her head. Yassen was beside her, an arm around her waist.

"Disappointed?" Alex asked, smirking. His friend had a crush on Jack for as long as he could remember.

"C'mon, she's so hot! I don't know how you stand it, Alex…I'd been all over her if I were you." Tom sighed. Alex nearly gagged. He didn't know which image was weirder, Yassen and Jack or Jack and Tom.

"Yeah, and she's about," Alex quickly did the math in his head, "fourteen years older than you are."

"Thirteen!" Tom crossed his arms indignantly, stopping mid run so that Alex nearly tripped into him. "I'll be fifteen in three weeks…you'd do well to remember my birthday, Alex."

Alex snorted and started running again. Tom sprinted to catch up with him.

"Look, I really don't want to talk about it now, okay? It's already confusing enough that he's an assassin and everything. I feel like I can't get away from it all." Alex and Tom had stopped in the middle of the field and begun to stretch.

"That's so cool!" Tom's eyes lit up at the mention of Alex's side life.

"No, Tom, it's not!" Alex insisted angrily. As much as he liked having a friend to share his secret with, Tom really didn't understand what spying was like.

"Sorry…" Tom mumbled absentmindedly. Alex could tell he was already imagining what it would be like to have an assassin as his guardian's boyfriend.

"No, your not," Alex laughed, shooting out his cleat to catch Tom in the shin. A stream of profanities erupted from the boy's mouth as he danced around in pain, laughing at the same time.

"This isn't ballet class, Harris, get your ass moving!" Their coach called angrily from the sidelines.

"Just keep in mind who is captain, Alex," Tom joked under his breath to a smug Alex as they retrieved a ball from the sidelines, "I could have you washing the team's sweaty socks for a week."

"Is that why you play so much, Rider? Are you fucking team captain for playing time?" Sean suddenly blocked their path back onto the field.

"Just piss off, Sean," Alex grumbled. Tom, however, was not so easily quieted.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should give it try sometime, Sean…you might not be benched for a change!" Tom nearly lunged forward, and Alex had to grab him by the sleeve of his jersey to hold him back. Sean gave the two a hateful glare before storming over to his group on the other side of the field. Alex knew that Tom was way too popular for Sean to fight with him and get away with it.

"God, he gets me so riled up! I swear, Alex…why don't you do something about it?" Tom kicked the ball angrily toward Alex as they began to warm up.

"Oh yes, I was thinking about calling in MI6 and having him taken care of, but I figured Yassen could just do the job for me." Alex rolled his eyes as he bounced the ball off his knee and back to tom.

"Good thinking, that would make it a little less scandalous…it's best to keep the British government out of it," Alex was about to make a smart comment in reply when the call for captains came and he made his way over to their coach.

The game seemed to go by quickly. The team they were playing was an equal match and Alex found himself running hard up and down the field. For once Alex cursed his position as a midfielder and the amount of running it required. His ribs (though greatly improved) still ached every time he tried to suck in large amounts of oxygen.

Sean made an effort of pointing it out during halftime as Alex grabbed a drink of water.

"What's wrong, Rider, are your ribs sore from running?" Sean smirked as soon as the coach turned his back.

"I don't know…is your ass sore from sitting on the bench?" Alex quickly dropped the water bottle and rushed back onto the field, exchanging a high five from Tom who had heard his comment.

In the end Alex's team won with a score of two to one and the boys rushed off the field cheering. After a short speech from their coach, the boys packed up their gear and began to leave. Alex walked with Tom, discussing the game excitedly as the made their way toward Jack and Yassen.

"Why are you leaving so quickly?" Alex nearly lost his balance and fell into the muddy field as someone pushed him from behind. It didn't take him long to guess who it was.

"You just don't go away, do you?" Tom asked incredulously. Alex agreed with his friend, he was at his wit's end with the older boy, "You think you would get the hint that nobody likes you!"

Sean's face flushed a deep red. Alex wondered if Sean was embarrassed because he knew Tom was right.

"Yeah, well, you seem to like hanging around losers, don't you?" Sean sputtered angrily, pointing an accusing finger in Alex's direction. Alex felt humiliation creep onto his face and he turned away from Tom, not wanting his friend to see how embarrassed he was. Hearing the commotion, Jack quickly picked her way carefully through the soaked field in her high heeled Jimmy Choos. Yassen followed closely behind.

"You're an idiot!" Having nothing else to say, Tom launched at Sean and Alex struggled to tear Tom away before he got hurt on Alex's behalf. Finally he succeeded, and Sean wiped blood away from his nose where Tom had punched him. Jack had finally managed to make her way over to the group.

"Alex! What's going on?" She exclaimed, looking over Tom's now black eye and Sean's bleeding nose.

"Is that the best you've got, Sean?" Tom spat, unable to move from where Alex secured him by the back of his jersey.

"Shut the hell up, Harris!" Sean swung his foot angrily into a puddle of mud. Alex and Tom quickly scurried out of the way, but Jack was not so lucky. The mud splattered over her white pants and covered her face in brown smudges that only became worse as she tried to rub them off.

"My pants! Look you did to them!" Jack shrieked, trying to rub them clean. Yassen quickly stepped past her to a sheepish looking Sean. In one swift movement, he reached behind Sean's ear and press down firmly. Sean's face contorted in agony and he clenched his teeth to stop from crying out in pain. Yassen dragged him through the mud and toward Jack, the boy in too much pain to even speak.

"Apologize," Yassen's voice was dangerously low, obviously having no tolerance for Sean's obnoxious behavior.

"I'm not…apologizing…" Sean gasped out defiantly, only to find himself crying out as Yassen pressed even harder, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Sean babbled, his eyes beginning to water, "It was an accident, I didn't mean to kick mud at you!"

Yassen released the boy and he collapsed into a puddle of mud.

"In the future, I do not appreciate you ruining Miss Starbright's outfit," Yassen dusted himself off coolly before turning to Alex, "I enjoyed your game, Alex."

Tom, who had been secretly dying to meet the assassin, now found himself speechless as he stared at the intimidating blond man who stood before him.

"Yeah, thanks," Alex replied curtly before turning to Tom, "I guess I'll see you later then, Tom."

"Bye, Alex," Tom's bright blue eyes had still not left the assassin.

"Bye, Sean," Alex waved cheerfully, enjoying seeing the boy groaning as he lay in the puddle of mud, "Oh, don't be too upset…cold water will get the stains out."

Tom finally snapped out of his trance, just in time to send a wave of mud and water in Sean's direction. Laughing, he waved goodbye to Jack, Yassen, and Alex as they made their way to the assassin's car.

"Oh, shit…now I'm going to get the seats all dirty!" Jack groaned as she opened the car door and caught sight of the beautiful leather interior on Yassen's black Alfa Romeo.

Yassen looked torn between being a gentleman and protecting his car. Finally, he pulled a blanket out of the trunk and spread it over the seat for Jack. Alex sat in the back. At first Jack seemed irritated with the state of her pants, but eventually her conversation lead back to the game and she returned to her animated self. Yassen listened politely, but seemed distracted. Alex noticed that he checked his mirrors often, and seemed to become edgy when they were caught up in traffic.

After a while of nothing happened, Alex decided that he was just imagining it. Suddenly, Yassen slammed on the gas and sped up, the speedometer rising rapidly from forty to seventy five. Alex quickly realized why. A black car was trailing closely behind them. Now that Alex thought of it, the car had been close behind them for the past fifteen minutes.

"What are you doing?" Jack, on the other hand, hadn't made the connection and she was feeling slightly unnerved about the suddenly high speed. The car was gaining on them, and Yassen increased the speed, suddenly jerked the wheel to the left. He barely missed the curb as he sped down a narrow alley and burst out onto a winding street that led through a park.

"Taking a scenic route," He smirked coolly, no humor in his voice as he glanced in his rear view mirror. The black car was pursuing them through the park, barely one hundred yards behind their bumper. Yassen shifted the car into a higher gear as he left the park onto a busy London street full of traffic. Speeding up, he wove in and out of traffic as the car followed behind.

"Slow down! What the hell is going on? Stop this car right now, Yassen!" Jack was screeching as she shook Yassen's shoulder angrily, her eyes riveted on the road ahead as Yassen barely missed crashing into a taxi stopped at an intersection. The car behind them was catching up and they were nearly to the center of the city. Yassen pushed the car even farther, his speedometer reading ninety five. Alex marveled that Yassen had managed not to crash the car.

Yassen was maintaining his speed, but he seemed to be letting the other car catch up. Suddenly, in the middle of an intersection, Yassen slammed on the breaks. Alex was glad he was wearing a seat belt as his body jerked forward. Jack, who never wore her seatbelt properly, smashed her head against the dash board. Spinning the car around in a u-turn, the other car whizzed by as Yassen took off in the opposite direction. Quickly pulling into the nearest mall parking lot, he found a space and parked the Alfa, turning it off quickly and leaning back in his seat.

After a few moments, the black car sped off in the direction they had just been traveling. Yassen waited for a moment before driving back to the house and slowly pulling into the Rider's gravel driveway.

Jack swung open the door and stumbled out onto the gravel unsteadily in her heels. Clutching her soon to be bruised forehead, she glared angrily at Yassen and pointed an accusing finger towards him.

"Never again!" She screeched. Alex rarely saw Jack this angry and he found it awfully entertaining (especially because it wasn't directed at him). Yassen seemed to share his amusement, "Do you hear me, Yassen? Never again! From now on, I'm the one driving!"

With that Jack marched angrily into the house to change her pants and ice her forehead.

Alex waited a few moments before breaking out into laughter. Yassen shook his head, resting his arm up against the car window.

"France is going to be very entertaining." He said thoughtfully.

---

A/N: You have no idea how much I enjoyed writing this chapter. It was a lot of Alex, but I'm going to add in some more Yassen/Jack love next chapter. *wink* Thank you everyone for your reviews! Seriously though, I love getting them! Keep reviewing because it keeps me writing!

I have an important question for you all…should Yassen propose to Jack in France? (or elsewhere) and if so, how?

Review, please! :)


	7. Connection

A/N: Don't kill me! Lol it wasn't my fault that I haven't updated in over two weeks (actually it is)…to make up for it though, updates will be coming at least twice a week from now on! Thanks for waiting!

---

Alex regretted his decision to come the moment the plane was in the air. Planes (like elevators) always made him feel claustrophobic. Even though they were flying first class, he was already beginning to feel sweaty and uncomfortable.

He also doubted if a trip to France was such a good idea. Surprisingly enough, it had been he who convinced Jack to continue with the vacation in the first place. After the car incident, Jack had pestered Yassen about the episode to no avail. Yassen brushed it off as 'escaping the London traffic.'

Jack, frustrated with the Russian, had almost called the whole thing off until Alex reassured her that the incident with the car was a 'guy thing' and she 'really wouldn't understand'. This was also followed by statements such as 'France will be fun' and how he was 'all caught up in his school work.' Finally Jack gave in.

Alex had been hoping to find out the Russian's motives, but now he wondered if he was walking straight into a trap. It seemed too good to be true. He wondered if his instincts were getting worse with each mission because this certainly did not seem like smart decision making on his part.

"Jack, I'm going to be sick," Alex snatched a paper bag off the back of the seat and felt his stomach heave. A few minutes and an irate stewardess later, Alex's stomach was still churning as they made their way to France.

---

Alex stepped off the plane warily, expecting any minute to be led at gunpoint into a large black van. Instead he covered his eyes as Jack pulled Yassen into a particularly long kiss and they were led towards a Taxi by a man speaking French.

The drive to Normandy was uneventful and they arrived in a small seaside town that consisted of a bakery, a few produce shops, a lighthouse, and a smattering of old stone houses. They were staying in one such house that had a decent sized grass yard enclosed by a gray stone wall. The contrast was startling.

"Oh my goodness, it's gorgeous!" Jack gaped, pointing toward the backyard, "Look at the cute little patio!"

"Unfortunately I will not be here for the first few days, but I will leave you with money so you can buy food in the town. Feel free to walk down to the beach, though the water will be awfully cold this time of year. There is a football in the closet, Alex, in case you are interested." Yassen looked amused and gestured to Jack, "Perhaps you could teach an American how to play."

"Not likely," Alex snorted and Jack looked indignant.

Yassen purchased seafood from town and cooked it into a dinner that was surprisingly delicious. Their meals together seemed to be getting more enjoyable and less awkward. Alex and Yassen made genuine conversation and even Jack noticed a change in the atmosphere.

Eventually their night came to an end as a black car from Yassen's company arrived out front. Jack wrapped an arm around Yassen's waist and drew herself up, pressing her lips against the Russian's. After a few moments, she broke away and rested contentedly against his chest, clutching at the rough fabric of his shirt.

"Yassen this is amazing…thank you so much…" Jack felt sad that the Russian was leaving. She hoped if she stalled him long enough he would decide to stay. He seemed to be in no rush and pulled her shoulders in more firmly against his chest as he waited for her to say goodbye. Finally she pulled away reluctantly.

"Well, I guess you have to go then. Goodbye, Yassen." she smiled, straightening out his collar as she deliberately stalled and allowing her fingers to brush against his neck, "I suppose I'll miss you, even with all the fun that Alex and I are going to have," she teased.

"I love you, Jack." With a quick kiss to the temple, Yassen vanished inside the car. Jack stood in the doorway for a moment and watched as the sun set over the beach. A cool breeze swept through the street and she shivered in delight.

The next few days Jack felt a mixed sensation of overwhelming joy and impatience. Alex quickly noticed the American's bizarre mood and commented on it several times. The final remark happened during a game of checkers in the living room. Jack squirmed around eagerly in her seat, constantly glancing out the window.

"For the last time, Jack, it's your move!" Alex was nearly yelling across the small wooden table to his guardian.

"Sorry, Alex, what was that you said?" Jack finally snapped her attention away from the window.

"Oh, I give up!" Alex threw his hands up and leaned back in his seat in exasperation, "You're hopeless. I mean, it's not like looking outside every waking moment is going to make him magically appear…"

Alex trailed off as a black car pulled up out front and Yassen stepped out of it with his suitcases in tow.

"He's back!" Jack was out the door before Alex could fully recover. Jack followed Yassen inside, insisting on helping him unpack. She fussed around him as he made his way into their room and helped him put his folded clothing into drawers. Yassen seemed a combination of annoyed and amused by all the attention.

The assassin was carrying a bagful of toiletries to the bathroom when something fell through the zipper and rolled across the floor. Jack picked it up in shock, holding it up to the light.

"Yassen, why do you have a bottle of Percocet in your bag, aren't those prescription pain killers?" Jack studied him carefully, still holding the bottle of pills in her hand. Yassen held out his hand patiently.

"An old injury," He replied. Jack bit her lip thoughtfully but returned the bottle to his hand.

Later that night Jack mulled the event over in her head. Something seemed odd about the whole situation, and yet she couldn't place what it was. She had been dating Yassen for almost three months now and nothing had seemed amiss. Still, the car incident had unnerved her. She placed it out of her mind, rolled over and fell asleep.

---

"Oh come on Alex, don't let him trick you like that!" Jack was a firm believer in screaming out encouragement at the top of her lungs when it came to cheering. Yassen and Alex were involved in a competitive game of football which had originally involved Jack. Not wanting to hold the two back, she volunteered her referee services and sat on the patio enjoying a beer.

Alex managed to steal the ball back from Yassen and sent it flying in between the two fence posts they had decided to make the goal. Cheering, Jack stood up and clapped, knocking her beer over in the process.

"Shit! Well, take a break while I clean up and get a new beer. Even score!" Jack called out as she rushed inside the house to dry off her shirt. Alex collapsed on the lawn, exhausted and breathing hard as Yassen sat down gracefully beside him. Alex glared at him.

"You aren't tired at all, are you?" He gasped out in between breaths.

"It comes from running each morning. I find it an excellent way to start the day, and it keeps me in condition," Yassen responded casually.

"Yeah, well, I don't think Jack would agree with you…" Alex smirked. Yassen had woken up at five for one of his morning runs, and Jack had insisted on coming along. She had not expected a ten mile jog and had come home and crawled back into bed still covered in sweat.

"Yes, unfortunately I do not think Jack will be accompanying me on anymore of my runs," Yassen's cold blue eyes always seemed to soften in amusement at the mention of Jack. It had taken Alex a while to notice the difference in the assassin's face, but now he was sure of it.

"Do you love her, Yassen, seriously? Or does this just have some connection with MI6…" Alex persisted.

"You'll find as you grow older, Alex, as much as Mr. Blunt would like you to believe, the world does not revolve around MI6…there are other driving forces as well." Yassen replied.

"That's not enough!" Alex insisted angrily, "I want to hear you say it…I won't believe you until you do!"

"I do love her, Alex," Yassen replied quietly after a brief pause, "You have no need to doubt that." Alex thought over the Russian's words for a moment.

"I believe you." He said finally. They both turned their heads as Jack walked back out onto the patio with a clean shirt and a new beer.

"Okay, guys, where were we?" She grinned. Alex stood up and continued his game of football with Yassen. Predictably, Yassen ended up winning but Alex still felt as though he put up a decent effort.

Alex followed Jack and Yassen inside, laughing at some joke Jack had made. Pausing in the doorway, Alex turned around to gaze out over the ocean.

Remembering that it was their last day, Alex felt sad that they would be leaving France behind. He realized that for the first time since his uncle's death he had gone on a trip that hadn't ended in a mission.

--

"Yassen! Alex! The plane is leaving in two hours and you two better be packed!" Jack screeched down to the assassin and the spy who were engrossed in yet another game of football. Rolling her eyes, the American slammed the window pane closed and began to zip up her bags. Unfortunately, she found repacking her clothing not quite as easy as she had hoped.

She stood on the bag and tried to close it, only to end up jamming the zipper and ripping out her clothes angrily. Sighing, she looked around the room for a solution and spotted Yassen's bags, neatly packed and ready to go. She contemplated storing her dresses in his bag, but reminded herself that it would be rude. Unfortunately Alex's clothing was strewn about his floor in a dirty mess so Jack decided that it was the only solution.

Returning to her room, she carefully unzipped Yassen's suitcase to revel neatly folded suits and a bag of toiletries. She shifted around his luggage, trying to find space from her clothing. Suddenly, her hand brushed up against something hard and metal. Wrapping her fingers around it, Jack slid the contraption out from under a folded pair of pants.

Jack gasped as she revealed the gun, rotating it slightly and watching as the light gleamed off the shiny metal surface.

"You know it is not very polite to look through someone else's luggage," Jack dropped the gun with a clatter and jumped up in surprise at the cool voice that came from the doorway. Yassen strolled casually over and placed the gun back in its place. Taking the dress out of Jack's shaking hand, he packed it neatly away with the rest of the luggage.

"Yassen, what the hell was that?" Jack pointed down angrily at the suitcase, finally having gained her composure.

"One can never be too safe in times like these," Yassen began to leave the room.

"No, Yassen," Jack grabbed him by his shoulder and stopped him from leaving, "I mean, what _was _that? First the car and the painkillers and now this…what the hell is going on here?"

"Jack?" Alex appeared in the doorway, concerned at Jack's raised voice.

"Alex! Oh my god…this is all MI6 isn't it?" Jack exclaimed and Alex thanked the heavens that Yassen already knew about his spying.

"This has nothing to do with MI6," Alex tried to calm Jack down.

"Perhaps it is time we talked about this…" Yassen exchanged a glance with Alex.

"Yeah, I think this is an awfully good time…what did you have it that suitcase that set her off?" Alex could have probably guessed, but his temper was rising at seeing Jack upset.

"Something useful to me in my line of work," Yassen replied calmly, and Alex caught the meaning in his statement.

"So that's it then," Jack sighed angrily, slumping down on the bed, "You're a spy?"

"Not quite," Yassen sat next to her and Alex occupied a chair on the other side of the room, "I am an assassin."

"So you work for the government then…" Jack looked over to Alex, wondering if there was any connection.

"You might call my work more…freelance," Yassen searched for the right word. Alex snorted bitterly from his seat across the room. It didn't go unnoticed by Jack.

"Alex, did you know about this?" Jack exclaimed, looking suddenly wary, "Is Yassen…is he dangerous?"

"Yes," Alex replied, "But surprisingly enough, I think he actually has a set of morals and I don't think he'll hurt you, Jack."

"And does he know about your…" Jack trailed off nervously.

"Spying?" Jack jumped in shock as Yassen answered beside her, "I discovered his work with MI6 when you did."

"I don't understand…how does this all connect then?" Jack was desperately trying to put two and two together, and miserably failing.

"That's the thing, Jack," Alex laughed, "It doesn't. The man you met in the bar happened to be Yassen Gregorovich who happened to be an assassin who happened to cross paths with me on multiple missions. We actually had a conversation about him after my Eagle Strike mission…you called him a 'crazy Russian', or something like that…anyway, the point is that it was all simply a coincidence."

"You're sure he's not…um…trying to kill you," Jack tried to whisper it but miserably failed with Yassen sitting beside her.

"I would never hurt Alex. I was a friend of John's...not so much a friend of Ian's…" Yassen trailed off, noting Alex's expression.

A silence fell over the room as Alex and Yassen allowed Jack to take everything in. After a few minutes she smirked cheekily to herself.

"Jacqueline Gregorovich," She rocked back and forth on the bed, grinning.

"What?" Alex and Yassen exclaimed simultaneously.

"Oh, um sorry," Jack rubbed the side of her face sheepishly, "It's just this thing I do every time I get a boyfriend. I put my first name in front of his last name to see how it would sound if we got married. Since I didn't know Yassen's last name I couldn't do that, but now…" she trailed off.

"It sounds nice," Yassen's lips twitched in what Jack knew to be a smile and Jack found her lips pressed up against his. Alex looked like he was ready to throw up.

"Ugh…my god…and I have to be on a plane with you two…" Alex hurried out of the room.

"Oh shit! We're going to miss our flight!" Jack broke the kiss (much to Yassen's disappointment) and zipped her bags closed, hauling them out the door. Pausing as she remembered something, Jack turned to Yassen and pointed to the suitcase that held the gun.

"Yassen," Jack sighed, "Just make sure that thing doesn't set off the metal detector."

A/N: Lol, well I made up for my absence with a super long chapter! The person in the car will be explained next chapter! ;) Please review with any suggestions or ideas, it is greatly appreciated!


	8. Flip the Switch

"What the hell have I done!" Jack flung herself on the couch and stared up at the ceiling miserably. They had returned home from France late the previous night, and Yassen had left almost immediately for a business trip in Italy. Jack and Alex had fallen asleep as soon as they reached their rooms.

"You're crazy, Jack, that's nothing new!" Alex laughed, dumping Jack's suitcase out on top of her playfully. Jack shifted positions so that she was able to view the spy through a mess of rumpled blouses and creased dresses.

"No, but really, Alex…could I talk to you for a moment," Alex could tell Jack was serious, so he took a seat in an armchair nearby. Jack loved to talk, and talking helped her think. Jack made decisions by thinking out loud, and woe to the person that had to listen to her.

"I guess what I really want to know is, who is Yassen?" Jack sighed, "I mean, I know who he is to me, but I need to know..."

"You want to know about his 'job', don't you?" Alex smirked.

"Yes," Jack rubbed her forehead sheepishly.

"Well why don't you ask him yourself?" Alex shrugged, "You are a couple, aren't you supposed to...communicate, or something?"

"You're right, Alex!" Jack stood up decidedly, her luggage tumbling to the ground and scattering out across the carpet, "I will ask him the next time I see him!"

"Just be careful, Jack," Alex stood up and began to climb the staircase, "You might not like what you hear."

---

It was a chilly fall day, but the park was beautiful nevertheless. The leaves had completely changed color and were beginning to fall. Jack enjoyed listening to them as they crunched under her red heels. She chatted for a while, but Yassen remained engrossed in his own thoughts. Eventually she grew quiet and admired the foliage as they continued their stroll through the park.

Jack took a few minutes to gather her courage before she finally spoke. When she did, each word was careful and deliberate. She was determined not to ruin everything, but on the other hand, she was dying to know more about Yassen.

"Yassen," Jack hesitated nervously, "I've been meaning..."

"To talk to me about my occupation?" Jack was caught off guard and she tripped over a crack in the pavement. Yassen skillfully caught her and led her to a nearby park bench.

"How did you know?" Jack asked after she had calmed down a bit. She still felt uncomfortable, and she fiddled with her necklace nervously.

"I assumed that the initial shock would eventually wear off and we would have a conversation similar to this one." Yassen responded. Jack nodded, gulping visibly as she ran a hand through her hair.

"Right. I suppose that makes sense," Jack had spent all morning scripting what she would say, but she suddenly drew a blank, "Um...well, I won't ask too many questions...I've already learned from Alex that the less I ask the better."

"I do not work under MI6," Jack could visibly see the tightness in Yassen's jaw line as he spoke. Yassen the contract killer suddenly became all too clear to Jack, and she shivered in the cool fall air.

Jack jumped, startled when Yassen slung his jacket around her shoulders. As he helped her straighten out the collar, his cold hands brushed up against her neck. Jack became painfully aware of her rapidly beating pulse. Eventually, she settled into his coat and calmed down.

"So, you know about MI6 then?" Jack asked, breaking the silence between them.

"MI6 tried to recruit me shortly after Alex's father was killed. One agent dies and they are quickly replaced. That is how MI6 works." Yassen's was no longer looking at Jack, he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, "John was irreplaceable but MI6 never understood that until after he was gone."

"I don't understand though, why would MI6 want you?" Jack asked out of curiosity, "Aren't you the bad guy?"

"John trained me...he must have mentioned me to his superiors," Jack caught the hint of pride in Yassen's voice as he said this, "Of course, I was furious at MI6. Why would I join a government operation that had killed my mentor?"

"Wait, I thought Alex's parents died in a plane crash?" Jack felt guilty, almost as though she was gossiping about Alex behind his back.

"They did...I was not aware of that." Yassen's gaze had returned to Jack, "I was lied to by Scorpia, not an uncommon occurrence for a company such as that. Perhaps Alex has mentioned a woman by the name of Julia Rothman?" Jack cringed, remembering Alex's stories all too well. Yassen's lips twitched in amusement at her reaction, "Yes, well, Miss Rothman was quite in love with John, but of course he had no interest in her. When she found out he was alive and well, she decided it was better to eliminate him than to lose face. She worked hard to make sure only a select few in the company ever discovered the truth. She sent out a Scorpia agent to take care of him."

"It wasn't..." Jack gasped, horrified, but was quickly cut off by Yassen.

"I would _never_ have killed John." Yassen's expression was so intense that Jack didn't doubt a word he said. They were silent for a moment before Jack asked the question she had been dreading all along.

"What about Ian?"

"When John was training me, he told me to never refer to the victim by their name, it makes it personal. Ironic, isn't it?" Yassen's voice was bitter, and Jack felt tears welling up in her eyes, "They only gave me a picture. Perhaps it would have made a difference if I had known who he was. Maybe it wouldn't have. I do not know."

Jack was furious enough to stop the tears that threatened to streak down her face. She stood up angrily and yanked off Yassen's jacket. She flung it at him and he caught it neatly, only making her more enraged.

"How could you? Do you have any idea what happened to Alex after Ian died?" Jack was screaming and a panicked flock of pigeons scattered into the air, "If Ian hadn't died, Alex wouldn't be flunking half his classes because he's busy being ordered around by the heartless bastards down in the special operations department! You're no better than they are, Yassen!"

Jack spat at the Russian, her face a bright shade of red.

"You have no right to say that," Yassen stood up briskly. The volume of his voice hadn't increased, but Jack could tell he was fuming, "Ian was training Alex to be an agent from the day John died in the plane crash. I am no guiltier than he is!"

Yassen brushed past Jack, carelessly knocking her off balance in the process. She twisted her heel and toppled to the pavement as Yassen stalked away. Jack's eyes were too blurry with restrained tears to notice the concerned glance that Yassen threw over his shoulder.

---

Jack didn't get home until late in the evening. She had spent the day grocery shopping and walking aimlessly around London. She was exhausted, and had secretly been glad when Alex hadn't answered his cell. She left a message telling him where she was and continued on her way.

When she finally arrived at the house, Alex was already asleep upstairs. Jack found him slumped over his school books, resting his head on his arms and using them as a pillow. Shaking her head, Jack decided to leave him at his desk. She knew he would eventually wake up and crawl into bed before the night was over. Jack left his room and took a long shower before finally climbing into bed herself.

She had originally thought that she would feel better, no matter what happened between her and Yassen. After all, she had nothing to feel guilty about. Alex was no longer at danger, and her boyfriend was no longer a professional assassin. Despite this, Jack felt no great catharsis. Instead, she felt even worse than before.

Half way through the night, Jack was awoken by a loud 'thud' coming from down the corridor. She dragged herself out of bed and switched on the hall light. Shuffling into Alex's room, she found the source of the noise. Alex had accidentally knocked his history text book from his desk while he was sleeping.

Bending down, the American picked up the book and replaced it on the desk. As she did, she noticed Alex's white knuckles as his fingernails dug into the wood of the desk. Jack glimpsed red blots on Alex's face from where tears had stained his cheeks. Gasping, she frantically gripped Alex's shoulder and tried to pull him awake.

"Alex! Alex…wake up!" Alex jerked awake, looking around in terror as his hand gripped the desk even tighter. Jack realized that he had no idea were he was, "Alex, are you okay?"

"Wh-where...what happened?" He looked around the room in confusion. A moment later, the spy came fully awake and breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh...it was only a dream...Sorry Jack, I…I didn't mean to scare you."

Jack bit her lip in concern.

"It's fine, Alex, why don't you get in bed?" Jack filed Alex's homework into his folders as he flopped down onto the bed. Jack sighed and sat down next to him, "Is everything okay, Alex?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I'm okay now, Jack...really, I am," Alex curled his legs up to his chest, and Jack felt a surge of pity for the miserable teen who sat next to her. Mrs. Jones had worried that Alex was growing up too fast because of his MI6 involvement. Jack, however, felt as though she was looking at a scared ten year old Alex who just had a nightmare.

Jack remembered her conversation with Yassen and felt her temper rising. She angrily brushed her messy red curls out of her face, and stood up. There was one thing she was absolutely sure of, this was all Yassen's fault.

"And you're going to stay that way, Alex!" Jack insisted. Alex looked up at her in confusion, "No more MI6, no more flunking school...we'll move to America if it's the only thing that will keep MI6 from using you! You can cut all ties with MI6, even Yassen." Jack tried to ignore the guilt that welled up in her chest as she spoke.

"You broke up with him?" Alex asked. Jack wasn't entirely sure if it would have been considered 'breaking up', but she was determined never to see him again.

Jack was good at lying to other people, but never to herself. It didn't stop her from trying.

"Of course! I mean, what the hell was I thinking, Alex? That it could actually work out? I would never put you through that. Besides, he's killed people! How could I date someone that has absolutely no morals or sense of judgment. I'd be dating a murderer, Alex!" Jack exclaimed.

"I've killed people," Alex spoke so quietly that Jack almost missed it. She was completely speechless, and she struggled for something to say. Alex saw her expression and quickly defended himself, "I mean, not directly or anything...not like Yassen. I guess what I'm saying is that, I hope you didn't break up with him because of me."

Jack quickly tried to protest, but Alex interrupted her before she could.

"I've known some of the people he's killed and, excluding Ian, they weren't exactly the nicest individuals." Alex shrugged, "It doesn't make it any better, but for what it's worth...I _kind of_ like him."

Jack studied Alex for a moment before standing up and clicking off the light in the hall.

"You'd better get to bed, you have school tomorrow," Jack sighed. Alex curled up under the covers without a second bidding.

"Well, don't I get to hear your decision?" Alex prodded after a brief silence. Jack laughed.

"I need to sleep on it," Jack sighed, "Goodnight, Alex, and…thank you."

"Goodnight, Jack," Alex murmured, already half asleep.

Jack walked slowly back to her bedroom. She sat on her bed and watched the hour hand inch past as she churned over the day's events in her head. By the time the hour hand reached two o'clock in the morning, she still hadn't reached a decision. Her eyelids felt suddenly heavy, and she was unable to stay awake any longer. She collapsed onto her pillow and fell asleep instantly.

---

A/N: I am so pissed. I wrote this entire chapter and then accidentally deleted it (first one was better) so I am blaming any mistakes in this chapter on my complete frustration when it comes to anything involving technology! XD Oh, and in happier news, I got my permit! Reviews are always appreciated!


	9. Winning Ugly

Jack hadn't heard from Yassen in days. She had called his cell phone multiple times (Alex decided that Yassen could have lawfully placed a restraining order on the American if he had wished) but received no answer. Alex couldn't bear to see her moping around the house, so he insisted on dragging Jack to the shops as much as he could. It cheered her up momentarily, but then she returned to her normal, depressed state.

After a week passed with no word of response from the Russian, Jack had begun to give up. This was the main reason why it came as quite a shock when Alex walked down the steps on his way to football practice to find Yassen reassembling their home phone.

"Jack, Yassen's here!" He called over his shoulder and began packing his bag for practice. He was surprised how completely comfortable he was with having the Russian assassin sitting in his living room. Alex watched Yassen carefully as he fiddled with the phone.

"What are you doing?" Alex raised an eyebrow, holding a pair of muddy cleats in one hand and a water bottle in the other.

"Your phone was broken." Yassen replied, not looking up from what he was doing.

"So you decided to fix it for us?" Alex shook his head, grinning bemusedly. Yassen nodded, "Of course you did."

Alex glanced up at a clock on the wall and swore, realizing he was nearly late for practice. He ran out of the house as Jack ran into the living room, stumbling over her heels. Alex was tempted to eavesdrop, but decided against it. He had worked too hard for his place on the team to have it taken over by an idiot like Sean simply because he was late for practice. Jack loved to gossip. She'd tell him everything when he got home.

---

Practice had been brutal, it always was.

Fortunately Tom was having a party at his house that night and had invited a few of his friends from the football team. Tom had been spending a lot of time with his new girlfriend, and Alex was secretly glad that she wasn't going to be there.

He was debating whether to take a shower or eat when Jack appeared from behind a corner. Alex noticed that Yassen seemed to have vanished, leaving the phone repaired and intact.

"Alex wait a moment, I have something important I want to talk to you about!" Jack followed Alex as he made his way into the kitchen. Food was more important than cleanliness and whatever Jack had cooked smelled delicious and exotic. Reluctantly, he turned around to face the American, "Thanks, Alex, I appreciate it."

"It's about Yassen isn't it? What did you talk about while I was at practice?" Alex could tell he guessed right by the guilty expression on her face.

"Not exactly, but I wanted..."

Alex never found out what Jack had to tell him.

The phone rang in the other room and he rushed in to get it. He had been expecting a call from Tom about the party later that night, so he didn't bother to check caller ID when he picked up the phone.

"Hey, Tom! I'm just going to grab a bite to eat and I'll be there a bit after six…is that alright?" Alex waited for Tom's response impatiently, curious about what Jack had to say. When the voice on the line finally responded, a wave of nausea forced him to sit down into a nearby chair.

"Alex, this is Mrs Jones." She paused and Alex wondered if she was waiting for a greeting. He certainly wasn't going to give her one. After a moment Alex heard what he thought to be a sigh as she continued, "We're sending a car for you and Miss Starbright within the hour...Blunt needs to speak with you."

Alex clutched at the phone, furious. It seemed so unfair. Brookland's student body was just beginning to become convinced that he wasn't a juvenile delinquent or a pot head, and he had regained his starting position on the football team. MI6 were the last people he wanted to hear from.

"Piss off," Alex swore.

"Excuse me!" Mrs Jones sounded a cross between offended and surprised, and Alex smirked. Finally MI6 was showing a bit of emotion. He could almost picture Mrs Jones choking on her peppermint. The thought brought him an unreasonable amount of joy, "Alex, I don't appreciate the language...Blunt insists that car is being sent for you, and you will come to his office whether you like it or not."

The end of line went dead. Apparently the heads at MI6 were beyond their normal methods of persuasion. They had taken to threatening him instead.

"It was MI6, wasn't it?" Alex didn't need to answer. Jack could tell by the look on his face that it wasn't good news, "What do they want from you this time?"

"They're sending a car within the hour," Alex ran a hand through his blond curls thoughtfully, "Oh, and here's the weird thing, they want you to come along as well...they've probably decided that it's easier to send me on missions if they throw me in some crummy boys school and ship you off back to America. You still haven't done anything about your visa, have you?" Jack shifted her weight awkwardly from foot to foot.

"It's an awful lot of paperwork, Alex, I'm working on it!" She rubbed her shoulder sheepishly. Alex ignored her and turned to go upstairs. The temperature was getting colder and colder each day, and he wanted to grab a sweatshirt before MI6 sent him off to some god-awful corner of the world. He hoped it would at least be somewhere warm.

"Alex, wait!" Jack called to him and he paused where he stood on the staircase, "You don't think they found out about Yassen, do you? I mean, I'm a little new to this whole MI6 versus terrorist organization thing, but I don't think that our dear friend Alan is exactly going to be happy about it."

Alex thought about Jack's words for a moment. Although MI6 had called Jack to the office a few times regarding Alex's missions, it did seem like an awfully suspicious coincident.

"Maybe, although there isn't much we can do about it," Alex shrugged, "They'll probably just tell you to break up with him or something...I mean, it's not like they're in control of _your_ life," The last part had a bitter ring to it and Jack winced, feeling sorry for the reluctant spy.

"I guess you're right...it doesn't really matter now anyway," Alex was too far upstairs to hear the last part of Jack's mumbled sentence.

A half an hour later a sleek black Audi pulled up in front of the house. Jack and Alex had been sitting silently in the living room for the past fifteen minutes as they waited for the car to arrive. Alex knew that running away from MI6 was no good; he had tried on multiple occasions. Still, he was determined to make it as difficult as possible for MI6 to drag him back to the Royal and General Bank.

He had no doubt that Crawley was the one driving the car and after a series of frantic honks, his suspicions were confirmed when Crawley threw open the door of the Audi and angrily crunched across the gravel driveway. The door bell rang and Jack got up and winked to Alex, trying as best she could to cheer him up.

"Hello?" Alex could hear her speak as she opened the front door.

"Hello, yes, I'm um...agent Crawley, MI6. I'm here to retrieve Alex," He coughed awkwardly. Jack smiled as sweetly as she could.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you must have just missed him," Alex snickered as he heard Jack answer from the other room. Crawley was an agent who took himself far too seriously.

"Miss Starbright," Crawley was struggling to remain polite as he reigned in control of his temper. It came out as a stutter, "T-this is serious government business, so I would appreciate it if you s-stepped aside,"

Alex could hear shuffling as the MI6 agent attempted to move around Jack and into the house. A yelp came from Crawley, and it sounded like Jack had stepped on one of his toes. Alex shook his head and decided to rescue the agent. He entered the hallway just as Jack was bending over on of Crawley's toe.

"Sorry about that...that happens sometimes when people try and _break into my house_," Jack growled the last part, leaving Crawley to stumble over an awkward apology. When he finally spotted Alex, the agent looked immensely relieved.

"Alex, there you are! The car is out front, as you can see...I honked but I suppose you didn't hear me," Crawley coughed pointedly and Jack rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, let's just go." Alex sighed and strode past Jack and Crawley who stood awkwardly in the doorway. Jack sighed and followed him dutifully. As they slide inside the car, Crawley started the engine and they began to make their way to the Royal and General Bank.

"I don't understand why their cars are always black, that seems awfully obvious. You think MI6 would be a bit cleverer than that." Jack was sitting in the backseat with Alex, but she spoke loud enough for Crawley to hear. Alex could see the agent's reflection in the rear view mirror clenching its teeth, "I mean, you wouldn't suspect someone to be super spy if they were driving a hot pink convertible."

"It's Blunt's idea. He likes to get cars that match the color of his heart," Alex smirked and Jack's loud (and decidedly obnoxious) laugh filled the small space of the car. Crawley winced again, and simply because he could do absolutely nothing to stop them from saying what they liked, Alex decided to really piss him off, "That's why Crawley's driving it, he likes to kiss Alan Blunt's ass."

Crawley slammed on the brake and they were thrown forward in their seats. Alex looked out the window and realized that they had finally reached the bank. Still fuming, Crawley led them through the lobby, where a sharply dressed receptionist confiscated their cell phones. They followed the agent into an elevator and then down a hallway, stopping when they reached office 1605. Crawley told them to wait and then briskly continued down the hallway. Before he had reached the end of the corridor, Jack leaned over and whispered loudly to Alex.

"Was I supposed to tip him or something?"

Alex could see Crawley's shoulders shaking as he turned the corner. He and Jack laughed as soon as they could no longer hear the click of Crawley's shoes. Their laughter, however, was abruptly cut short as Mrs Jones opened the office door.

"Alex, Jack, you can both come in now." The scene in front of Alex was like an overplayed bad movie. Alan Blunt sat in a dull suit at a dull desk with glasses that could have been dated back to the sixties.

Mrs Jones stood rigidly by his side in a starched two piece, bad hair and bad makeup. She was sucking on her usual peppermint. Alex wondered how many calories each peppermint contained and whether or not Mrs Jones' peppermint eating could have been considered a drug addiction.

"I suppose you know why you are here," Blunt spoke after a moment of awkward silence.

"Yes, so you can force me into another one of your missions. It'll be the usual visa excuse followed by 'you're the only one that can do it, Alex' and when that doesn't work, maybe you'll pull out the 'you're father was proud to serve his country' card..." Alex did not have a short temper, but he could already feel it being worn thin. Blunt, unfortunately, was not in an amiable mood.

"Quiet!" Blunt snapped unexpectedly, "When are you going to grow up Alex?"

Alex's eyes grew wide and he stumbled to find a response.

"Alan..." Mrs Jones began but was cut off by Jack.

"I don't know, Blunt, that's a good question considering you never even gave him a chance to be a teenager!" Jack shouted angrily, blood rising to her face, "You're an ass Blunt, I hope you have trouble sleeping at night."

"You, Miss Starbright, also need to practice some decent judgment." Blunt's nostrils flared angrily, "You ignorantly hook up with a dangerous assassin who is wanted by multiple governments, foolishly putting Alex's life at risk. This, unfortunately, is unacceptable behavior for a guardian, and we will be removing Alex from your care."

"What?" Alex and Jack chorused at the same time.

"No you can't, I've always taken care of Alex!" Jack shouted indignantly.

"I don't want to go to some shitty boy's orphanage! This is all about MI6, isn't it?" Alex yelled over Jack's appeal.

"It's for Alex's own good." Alan Blunt insisted furiously.

"Oh, piss off you fucking ass! Nobody asked you! You always lie anyways!" Alex shouted, his composure completely gone. He considered jumping over the desk and punching Alan Blunt square in the nose, but decided that the desk was too high.

"Please, calm down, we do have another alternative!" Mrs Jones tried to speak over the clamor of noise that had suddenly filled the office, but she was ignored.

"That is quite enough," Alan Blunt stood up from behind his desk, in his haste knocking over the chair. An uneasy silence settled over the room. Mrs Jones looked like she was about to speak, but then thought better of it, "Fine, Alex...I'll give you the truth, but you already know what it is. We own you. It wouldn't make any difference if Jack got her visa or if you moved to the most obscure corner of the world, we would find you and you would continue to work for us. Perhaps you find this unfair, the fact of the matter is you are too valuable for us to allow you to slip away. So, until you sign a contract with MI6 and make this your official career, we will continue to black mail you in whatever way we can, yes, including sending you to some 'shitty boy's orphanage' as you put it. But you already know that, don't you?"

Alan Blunt sat down and Jack opened her mouth speechlessly. The color had drained from her face and she stood there, looking slightly unsteady on her feet. Alex stood quietly for a moment before turning to Mrs Jones.

"You said there was an alternative?" Alex asked. Mrs Jones looked uncomfortable and was unable to meet his gaze. She shifted uncomfortably in her clunky black heels.

"As you know, Alex, Yassen is one of our most wanted criminals. He has caused quite a large amount of trouble in past years as you have experienced yourself," Mrs Jones paused and Alex wondered what she was getting at. After a brief moment of silence, she continued, "Yassen, unfortunately, is not an easy person to track down. When we first heard that Miss Starbright had acquired an interest in him, we did not contact you immediately because we were afraid it would send him into hiding. We thought we finally had him within our grasp after your football game, I'm sure you've been wondering about the car chase..."

"That was you in the car!" Suddenly, things became painfully clear to Alex.

"Oh my god, I should have guessed...they do always have black cars don't they?" Jack exclaimed.

"That's why we went on the holiday to France, Yassen wanted to leave the country to escape capture." Alex ignored Jack and continued to study Mrs Jones. He was beginning to realize what she was implying.

"Yes, that was quite unfortunate. The French are extremely uncooperative when it comes to matters such as these," Blunt was obvious furious. Alex wondered how many agents he had canned after the car chase incident. Judging by Blunt's expression, it had been quite a few, "We then went through the trouble of having your phone bugged while you were away, but somehow Yassen discovered the device."

"You had our phones wire tapped?" Alex groaned, realizing that some poor MI6 agent now knew a few very graphic details about Tom's sex life. He gave Yassen a mental note of thanks for disabling the device, "Yassen told us that our phone was broken...how did he realize that you were wiretapping us?"

"Wire tapping only works if you are within a certain range to pick up the transmissions. We needed an agent near your house at all times to hear your phone conversations. It's similar to a radio, though much less efficient. He must have spotted our car two streets over and grown suspicious." Mrs Jones explained. Alex felt extremely violated, and from Jack's expression he guessed she felt the same.

"So, what do you want Alex to do about it?" Jack voiced Alex's thoughts.

"We believe that Yassen would be willing to come into a trap of sorts if he assumed that you were both in trouble. We have developed a plan to lure him back to London, but we need your help, and yes, Alex, you are the only one who can do it…along with Miss Starbright of course." Mrs Jones gestured towards Jack with a sigh.

"No, what do you mean? No, absolutely not! I won't serve as your bait for Yassen!" Jack insisted, stomping her heel down on the tiled floor. Blunt seemed unfazed.

"Then your privileges as guardian will be removed, you will be deported back to America, and Alex will be sent to a boy's home. This is the alternative," Blunt leaned back into his seat and rested his fingertips against each other. Alex thought he resembled some type of grey, aging owl patiently awaiting its kill. He shuddered.

"What do we have to do?" Alex asked when Jack seemed to have no response.

"Almost nothing. The plan is very simple. You will be transported to one of our high security prisons and stay there under heavy guard until Yassen is eventually brought into captivity. We will use Miss Starbright's cell to call him and inform him that until he turns himself in, both you and Miss Starbright will be kept without food and water." Blunt answered coolly.

"Yassen's not an idiot!" Jack glared at him incredulously, "He's not going to fall for that!"

"There's nothing to fall for, Miss Starbright." Blunt smiled and Alex shivered, wondering if the chief of special operation's face was going to crack, "You had best hope your _boyfriend_ has a fast mode of transportation."

Alex wanted desperate to scream 'I hate you' and throw a tantrum, but he was particularly self conscious of Blunt's 'grow up' comment. As much as he hated Alan Blunt, the words still stung. Fortunately, Jack beat him to it.

"Yassen was right about you! Not that he needed to say it! You're as bad as...as Scorpia!" Jack spat out the first name she could remember, "And Damian Cray and the Triads, and all those other horrible people. You aren't any better than they are!" Alex realized that Jack was scared. Her face was paler than he had ever seen it and her hands were shaking ever so slight. He firmly grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Blunt's desk.

"Jack, calm down..." Alex trailed off and continued to gaze at Mrs Jones, unable to reassure Jack any further. MI6 had manipulated and used him before. Alex decided that in the grand scheme of things this was not much different.

"You may think that, but Yassen has aided in the deaths of quite a large number of people. Surely Alex, you of all people should understand this. What about the incident aboard Air Force One?" Mrs Jones prodded.

"There wouldn't have been an incident if you both had done your jobs," Alex growled. He could still remember the bitter sting of betrayal. In fact, it was becoming all too familiar.

"That's it," Blunt leapt up out of his seat for the second time that day. Alex wondered if he was on a lucky streak, "I've had enough of this. Your uncle knew his place in this world, and it's about time you learned yours. Do you agree or not?"

Alex weighed his options. If he said no, he had no doubt that MI6 would find some way to use him in the long run. He didn't like the idea of being completely in their power, somehow he doubted that Alan Blunt was very good when it came to childcare. If he said yes, he had absolutely no idea what could happen. However, the chances of him recovering with his life and dignity intact seemed much more likely if he did things MI6's way.

"Fine...do what you want." Alan Blunt nodded his approval and reached under his desk to push a button. Nearly seconds later two agents strode in the room and took Jack and Alex none too gently by the shoulder.

"You're doing the right thing, Alex," Mrs Jones said quietly. Jack dug her heels in and twisted around so she was glaring at Alan Blunt.

"You may think that Ian learned his place, but you know what Mr Blunt? Ian's only place in this world is six feet under ground." Jack was finally shoved out the door and it swung shut with a bang. Blunt waited for a moment and then clicked the 'end call' button on Jack's green mobile.

"That should give our friend, Yassen, something to think about," Blunt coughed and place the mobile carefully in a nearby drawer. He typed in an authorization key and the drawer locked instantly.

"God Blunt, I do hope you know what you're doing." Mrs Jones shook her head.

---

A/N: You should be proud of me lol I did quite a bit of research on wire tapping for this chapter! XD Anyway, I'm still debating how to end this, so any ideas are REALLY appreciated. Seriously, I need help lol. All reviews are appreciated as always! Oh, and I finally got my own laptop so I can finally write my chapters without the rest of the family nosing into them.


	10. Street Fighting Man

Yassen snapped his mobile shut and set it down carefully on the desk. He had heard the entire conversation. He sat quietly for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm a headache that no amount of ibuprofen was going to cure. The hotel manager had set the temperature up to an unbearable degree, and Yassen felt stifled in the dry heat of the room. In his line of business, opening a window was not an option and he undid the top buttons of his polo in an attempt to avoid the heat.

It had been a long day.

Yassen Gregorovich had an analytical mind. It seemed slightly ironic that he had survived life as an orphan on the streets of St Petersburg, the homeland of violent gang warfare, murder and bribery alike, only to become a contract killer. It suited him, and Yassen wondered if growing up in Russia's capital of crime had sealed his fate. He had quickly learned to how to work his way out of dangerous situations, skills that he found to be all too useful in his line of work. It had given him quick reflexes, both mentally and physically, and saved his life plenty of times. Now, however, he was beginning to wish he possessed skills more suited to the life of a banker.

He drew a cheap hotel-provided tablet out of the drawer next to him and began to list his options. Seeing them lined up next to each other only made the situation seem more impossible.

Option one was rescuing Jack and Alex and smuggling them out of the country. He had no doubt he'd be able to rescue them, but he began to wonder if that was truly the best option for the two of them. For all he knew, they could not want to be rescued. They obviously didn't like MI6, but being a fugitive wasn't exactly a pleasant solution either.

He could turn himself in. He knew that sacrificing himself for Alex and Jack would mean surrendering to MI6, something he would never do. He'd always looked after himself, and now was no exception. He remembered the conversation he'd had earlier with Jack. It seemed like MI6 had been waiting for him to leave so they could stab him in the back. Hypothetically of course. Yassen wondered what would happen if he did nothing. He highly doubted Blunt would hesitate for a second before killing Jack for the sake of getting what he wanted. Alex was too valuable. There were always plenty of run down boys' homes that would allow Blunt to use Alex whenever he wanted.

Yassen realized that was out of the question. He cared about Jack and Alex far too much to let them die. He crossed the option off his tablet and ended up ripping a hole in the paper. Sighing, he tore the piece off and crumbled it into a ball, pitching it into the trash can against the wall. It bounced off the rim and fell to the floor. Yassen swore in Russian as he leaned over and placed it in the bin. He wondered if he was loosing his touch. He could shoot a penny in half from fifty yards away, but he couldn't manage to fire a paper ball into a trash can.

He should have quit while he was ahead.

He reopened his cell phone. The picture on his mobile was one that Jack had taken a week ago in France and then insisted he set it as his background. He had thought it an awfully childish thing to do, but that was Jack and now he was grateful for it. Reluctantly he began browsing his contacts list, looking for a potentially helpful one. He finally settled on a number and pressed the call button. A voice speaking Japanese answered on the other line.

"Good Evening, Masaki, this is Yassen Gregorovich," Yassen answered him in perfect Japanese. The lesson tapes had paid off, "I'm calling to inquire about the possibility of buying a latex mask..."

---

Alex and Jack were flung carelessly into a cell. Neither of them tried particularly hard to resist. Alex knew from personal experience with MI6 that resisting was no use. He slumped against the cold white cell wall as Jack flopped down on the coverless bed. Alex wondered if the cell was the same one he'd stayed in during his Scorpia mission. It certainly looked the same.

"Shit, Alex, what are we going to do?" Jack pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on top of them. Alex gave Jack a small smile as he sat down next to her. He flung an arm around the redheaded American and pulled her in close.

"You would never survive two days as a spy for MI6," Alex shook his head, feeling sorry for his guardian.

"Do you get captured a lot?" Jack tried to sound casual about it, but halfway through she choked on her sentence and Alex prayed she wouldn't begin to cry.

"You have no idea," Alex muttered.

"I'm sure it was never this bad...I mean, for God's sake, I feel like I'm trapped in a tiny white box..and what the hell is that thing? Is that supposed to be a toilet?" Jack pointed to the chemical toilet in the corner and grimaced.

"Jack, you've got to trust me on this one, I've gotten out of much worse," Scorpia, Point Blanc, Stormbreaker...Alex seemed to have awfully bad luck when it came to being captured.

"Are we escaping then?" Alex had to stifle a chuckle. Jack obviously had no idea the amount of surveillance they were under. He knew from previous experience that all of MI6's cells were bugged. There were virtually no cracks or windows, even the light was bolted firmly to the ceiling.

"Yeah, Jack, it doesn't look like there's much of a chance of that," Alex shook his head. Jack ran her fingers through her messy red curls with a sigh, "And even if we did escape, where would we go? MI6 wouldn't let us leave the country and they certainly wouldn't let us return home."

"Geesh, sorry I even mentioned it!" Jack shrugged, "I guess I'm a little inexperienced with this type of stuff."

"Most people are," Alex smirked and Jack chuckled slightly. They quickly stopped when sounds from the outside attracted their attention. The door slowly opened and a man stepped inside. Alex noticed that he wasn't armed. MI6 obviously didn't expect them to make it far, even if they did manage to overpower the guard. The man was holding something in his arms, and for a brief moment Alex remained hopeful that it was food. The man dropped the objects on the floor and Alex's hope was quickly dashed. The guard had brought them books. Paperback ones at that.

"Mrs Jones thought you might need something to pass the time." The man spoke gruffly and Alex jumped up in excitement. The man immediately tensed until he saw who Alex was.

"Cub, what the hell are you doing here?" He spat, looking questioningly at Jack.

"Wolf, you're back from Baghdad!" Alex grinned cheekily, remembering his not so friendly companion from SAS training.

"I, uh, see you got my 'get well' card then," Wolf stuttered, obviously embarrassed. He quickly recovered and explained, "They shipped me back for a month after I was injured. Called it a 'recovery period' or something like that. Basically an excuse for the government to set me up with crap jobs while I wait to be sent back to the front."

"Who is this, Alex?" Jack walked over and offered the SAS solider a hand. He looked slightly confused, but he still hesitantly shook it.

"This, Jack, is the personable, handsome leader of K Unit who made my life a living hell during SAS training." Alex flung an arm around the irritable Wolf who still seemed slightly taken aback

"Get your hands off me, you rotten little Double O Nothing," Wolf yanked Alex's arm away from him, "What type of shit have you got yourself into this time? No wait, let me guess. Classified."

"I guess," Alex shrugged, "So what are you doing here? Are you supposed to make me feel better about this whole situation? Or is it just guard duty...which, by the way, you're doing a very bad job of." Alex jerked his thumb in the direction of the wide open door. Wolf swore and slammed the door shut behind him, locking them all inside the cell.

"Do you have a key?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Of course I do! I'm not an idiot, it's in my..." Wolf stopped himself just in time and glared at the American, "I'm not falling for that...don't even think about trying anything stupid. This place is a fortress." Alex sighed, and went back to sulking on the cot. He suddenly felt very tired and very hungry. The thought of SAS training usually gave him both of those sensations, but the fact that he was locked in a cell made them even worse. Wolf noticed Alex's expression and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Well, I'm...I guess I'd better be leaving then...I'm not supposed to chat up the prisoners," Wolf coughed. Jack and Alex stood looking at him, confused as to why he wasn't leaving.

"The last part was a joke..." He trailed off miserably, turning around in a huff and leaving them alone in the cell. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know, he's a perfect ray of sunshine." Alex noticed her expression.

"I'll say...god, it seems like all these MI6 nuts are searching for a personality." Jack leaned back against the wall. Alex nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, and I don't think they're going to find one," He added. Jack walked over to the pile of books curiously and nudged one with her toe. Alex looked at her in puzzlement, "What are you doing? Did you think it was going to explode or something?"

Jack shrugged.

"Do you think paper has any nutritional value?" She asked. It was Alex's turn to shrug.

"Probably not. When I was at Malagasto they told us to drink our own urine if we were ever stranded somewhere without water. You can stay alive for weeks," Alex offered. Jack's face screwed up into a grimace at the thought and she looked like she was about to be sick.

"I hope Yassen gets here soon..." She trailed off miserably.

"Yeah, so do I." Alex sighed. Jacked picked up the first book and flipped through it, occasionally stopping to skim a page here and there. Judging by her expressions, Alex guessed the book wasn't particularly fitted to Jack's tastes in literature.

"Oh my god, this book is horrible...something about feminism and Mr Rochester...holy smokes, a woman just jumped off a building with her head on fire!" Jack exclaimed. Alex rolled his eyes, snatching the book away from her.

"It's Jane Eyre, that's why it's horrible," Alex explained. Jack slumped down onto the cot next to him.

"Even though I'm trapped in a stark white cell, bored out of my mind, and half starved to death, I still don't think I could find that book interesting!" Jack commented. Alex ignored her and instead bent over a piece of paper that had slid out of the Charlotte Bronte book when Jack tossed it. It was scrawled on what looked like paper from a hotel tablet (it had a Comfort Inn logo on the top of the sheet) and had obviously been written extremely quickly.

"What's that?" Jack asked, craning her neck to see what Alex was holding.

"On of the pages ripped out of the book when you threw it," He gave her a meaningful look and she pursed her lips together to indicate she got his message. Jack read the note eagerly, but was obviously disappointed when all it said was 'dinner with Julia at seven'.

"Well it's no use to us!" She exclaimed. Alex quickly hushed her by putting a finger to his lips. He wasn't willing to give up yet. Standing on the cot, he held the page up to the light. The message that shone through had been written in lemon juice (obviously an impromptu on Yassen's part) and it showed up as a discolorment on the paper. Still, if MI6 had found the page they would have been unable to notice the message without light shining through it, and the note would have hopefully been discarded without much thought.

Alex read the note silently to himself, and Jack hopped up beside him to read it as well. After he was done, he shoved the paper back into the book, making sure to place it with the other books under the cot. It was going to be a very long night.

---

A/N: Julia is in fact a Julia Rothman reference...I couldn't think of another name to use. Someone recommended throwing in K Unit a while back, so I settled for Wolf. A little side note, this chapter is named after my favorite Rolling Stones' song. A special thanks to Sarubby who reviewed like a mad woman and to Halfmoonglasses for the latex mask idea, both were much appreciated! :D


	11. Take It or Leave It

The prison was, as Wolf had said, a fortress. The hallways were barren and white. They were lined with security cameras that had absolutely no blind spots and were next to impossible to hack, owing to the fact that they had no wires. Instead, the pictures were transmitted through a state of the art complex hard drive. The doors only opened when they were activated by a code on the badge worn by each of the guards. This code had to be preprogrammed and could only be used at the particularly time of day for which it was set.

This was why Radley Whiteman should have found it unusual when at two after nine his replacement guard still hadn't arrived. Even two minutes late was inexcusable in the MI6 profession. Radley stretched and yawned tiredly, arching his back as he checked his watch for the eighth time in the past ten minutes. He was eager to be home. He had joined MI6 expecting to participate in oversea activity and espionage, and instead found himself guarding a harmless teenager and a crazy twenty-some year old.

He smirked, remembered the rumors that had circulated about the screaming fit between the American and Alan Blunt. Even though office 1605 was entirely soundproof, word had somehow filtered out about the encounter. It would have become a huge office joke, with plenty of email discussions to follow, had it not been for the fact that MI6 monitored all it's member's emails, and that they would have eventually ended up on the desk of Blunt himself.

Radley was so caught up in his own thoughts that he jumped suddenly when a figure appeared beside him. He breathed an audible sigh a relief when it was only the replacement guard.

"Geesh, mate, you scared me!" Radley shook his head, looking at the man suspiciously. He was reassured by a pleasant smile.

"Perhaps, then, it is a good thing that your shift it over," The guard said, causing Radley to chuckle.

"Yeah, you got that right. God this place is dull. Well, standard MI6 procedure...I need your name, date of birth, section number and code," Each guard was required to memorize the information of their replacement. It kept things secretive and safe.

"Is that entirely necessary? We both know there is no way I could have made it through the door without a code on." The guard pleaded, but Radley remained where he stood.

"I'm afraid it is necessary. You know the drill," Radley insisted.

"Well, that is unfortunate." The guard's friendly appearance melted away and his voice instantly becoming cool and emotionless.

It was at this point that MI6 made their second mistake. Not only did they allow for an override code on the doors in case of an emergency (something the replacement guard had taken full advantage of) the cameras in the hallway recorded only images. They were not equipped for audio surveillance. To the people watching the visual that the cameras recorded, it appeared as though Radley had fainted. The guard caught him and gestured urgently to the nearest camera, pointing to the fallen agent. A few moments later, security guards and paramedics were racing down the hallway. They found the replacement guard kneeling over Radley who was slumped up against the wall.

"What happened?" The paramedic asked.

"I don't know, he said he wasn't feeling well and then he fainted." The guard explained casually. Upon closer inspection, MI6 would have found a heavy sedative in the man's blood stream, one that was also known to cause fevers. The paramedic, however, instantly confirmed the guard's story.

"Yeah, he feels like he has a pretty high temperature. We'll take him to the infirmary," They hoisted Radley up onto a stretcher and began wheeling him down the long white hallway. From where he stood up against the wall, the guard watched the paramedics and security personnel cautiously as they left. It was the most crucial point in his rescue mission, but it was too early to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Hey, you!" One of the security guards suddenly remembered the replacement guard and spun around, shouting.

"Yes, Sir?" He answered carefully.

"Get back to your post! You've left the cell completely unguarded!" The man yelled. The guard gladly obliged.

Yassen Gregorovich waited until the men had left before reaching into his pocket to double check that he had totally concealed the small, poisonous dart. The first part of his plan had gone perfectly, but it was too early for mental congratulations. The assassin jammed his hands into his pockets and felt the key that he had stolen from Radley while he lay passed out on the floor.

He checked his watch and was glad to see that he was right on schedule. The latex mask was uncomfortable and the smell was similar to that of a rubber tire. Yassen resisted the urge to itch his nose.

For another ten minutes he stood outside the door. He wondered if Alex had found his message, or if they had anyway of knowing what time it was. Luck was on his side, and at nine thirty a loud knock followed by shouting could be heard from within the cell.

Yassen drew out the stolen key and fitted it into the lock. The door swung partially open to reveal Jack and Alex. Jack look at him carefully, squinting one eye as though trying to see through the mask. Alex, on the other hand, was more experienced and acted like nothing was wrong.

"Our toilet's broken..." He pointed toward the chemical toilet in all the contempt and disgust that a teenager could muster.

"I'll need to contact my superiors about getting it fixed, I'm afraid I can't do anything about it at the moment." Yassen responded. While they spoke he quickly got to work disabling the bug that was in place under the mattress in the corner of the room. To the MI6 agents, he was now invisible. He was unable to be seen from the outside or heard from the inside. It would appear as though he simply stopped speaking. He knew he only had mere seconds before they became suspicious, and he worked quickly. He handed Jack an envelope and Alex a tube of an odd looking silver substance.

"This will dissolve through the wall. You will end up in corridor with no surveillance. There should be no guards. Take the first left and then the third right and you will reach a door. Open it and you'll find yourself in the middle of London. Return to your house and open the envelope, it will give you further instructions." Yassen spoke quickly and Alex nodded. He turned to leave when he felt a tug on his shirt. He whirled around to find Jack clutching at his sleeve with long pale fingers.

"What are you doing, Yassen?" Jack bit her lip worriedly.

"Helping you get away," He gave her the first real smile she had ever seen, "So shut up and get moving."

It was so unlike Yassen that Jack wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She settled for pulling him down to her height and pressing her lips up against his. After a few seconds, he roughly broke away and casually returned into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

Alex ignored them and got to work cutting a small hole in the wall. Jack stood helplessly off the side as she waited for him to finish. Eventually the wall fell through (Alex noted that it was a solid meter of hard steel) and he clambered quickly through the hole. He stood impatiently on the other side, taking stock of his surroundings as he waited for Jack to follow. Unfortunately, Jack was having more trouble pulling herself through the hole. Alex bent over and clutched at her wrists, trying to drag her through the wall.

"Ouch! Alex, shit this hurts!" Jack complained. Alex gave up tugging and tried to help her wriggle through.

"Sorry, Jack, I got through fine," Alex shrugged and Jack glared up at him furiously.

"Yes, well, if you haven't noticed, girls have slightly bigger hips than boys do, Alex" Jack swore as she finally managed to pull herself through, nearly loosing her jeans in the processes. Alex had to stifle his laughter as she pulled her jeans back into position and dusted herself off. She tried to fix her hair but Alex snatched her arm and tugged her down the hallway.

"C'mon, we have to hurry," Alex ran, dragging a stumbling Jack behind him. The hallway seemed bare and deserted. There was minimal lighting on the ceiling and old cracked tile on the floor. It was stark contrast to the modern, clean MI6 portion of the building, and Alex assumed that this section must have been used for storage. They turned at the first right and were beginning to round the third left when they ran head first in a large man in a uniform. Alex immediately was on guard, but faltered slightly when he saw who it was.

"Wolf!" He gasped. Jack stood nervously to the side. Wolf seemed indecisive for a moment, but finally he sighed and pointed down the hallway.

"I don't know what the hell you're doing, but you had better get out before I call MI6." Wolf growled and Alex thanked him with a nod, grateful beyond words, as he rushed past.

They went down a staircase and reached an exit labeled 'Janitors and Maintenance only.' Ignoring it, Alex pushed past it and found himself in a side street in the heart of London. It was dark out and Alex decided it was too risky to call a taxi. It was an hour before Jack and Alex finally collapsed onto the couch in their living room. They sat silently for a moment, both engrossed in their own thoughts. Alex was finally the one to break the silence.

"You should probably open the note now in case it says anything important." Alex gestured tiredly towards the envelope that Jack held clutched in her fingers.

"Right," Jack nodded nervously and tore it open carefully. Two slips of paper fell out of the envelope and onto the cushion of the couch, one a letter and the other a visa. Jack picked up the letter first. After a few moments of reading she let out a half choked sob and Alex moved so he was sitting next to her. He placed an arm around her shoulder and read the letter along with her.

---

From the moment Yassen Gregorovich ripped off his latex mask, MI6 had been a flurry of activity.

Alan Blunt was at an important meeting with the Prime Minister, so Mrs Jones received the call. An agent was sent down to examine the cell, but Alex and Jack were long gone by the time they arrive. Barely an hour later, Yassen was shown, handcuffed, into a room, consciously aware of the gun digging into the small of his back. Mrs Jones stood on the other side of the room, regarding him carefully with her beady black eyes as she waited for the guard to step off to the side.

"Malta," Mrs Jones spoke the word and let it linger in the air between them. Yassen was secretly surprised. It certainly wasn't how he had expected the conversation to start. After a while Mrs Jones spoke again, "We should have captured you along with John when we had the chance in Malta, we would have saved ourselves a large amount of trouble."

"Are you referring to Alex Rider?" Yassen spoke levelly. Mrs Jones studied him for a moment.

"I don't understand. If you were going to let them escape, why did you give yourself away?" Mrs Jones paced the room, not breaking her gaze away from Yassen's.

"I did not want to leave Jack and Alex with the only option of fleeing the country." Yassen answered honestly.

"Why? Were you afraid they wouldn't come?" Mrs Jones questioned.

"No, I was afraid they would." Yassen replied. Mrs Jones stopped pacing suddenly, still calmly meeting Yassen's gaze.

"Alex doesn't hate MI6 enough to do something like that," She responded, "You barely know him...him or Miss Starbright."

"I do not want Miss Starbright in any trouble because of this...inconvenience. She has an up to date visa so it appears you will have to find another way to make Alex work for you." Yassen was almost amused by the way that Mrs Jones paled at the mention of the blackmail.

"That was Blunt's idea..." Mrs Jones stopped herself, realized she was justifying her actions to a paid assassin.

"I would be curious to know what the rest of the government thinks of you using a fourteen year old boy." Yassen prodded, but Mrs Jones seemed completely unaffected by his question. She stood with her back facing him and gazed at the wall thoughtfully.

"They know MI6 has some questionable methods. We are always on the lookout for potential talent." Mrs Jones paused, turning to face Yassen, "As far as your question regarding Miss Starbright, I'm afraid you'll have to wait for Blunt to arrive from his meeting. I can, however, assure you that neither of them are in any trouble with the government."

As Mrs Jones and Yassen spoke, Alex and Jack were sitting in their living, surrounded by potato chips and soda bottles as they finished reading Yassen's letter. Jack finally leaned back against the couch and set the letter down on the coffee table with a sigh, placing the visa next to it.

"I'm sorry, Jack." Alex bit his nails (a habit he'd picked up after MI6) as Jack took a particularly long swig of her Coke.

"I am too, Alex." She stretched and then curled up into a ball, dragging a nearby blanket over on top of her. She decided that walking up the steps to her room was far too much effort and that she would sleep on the couch for the night. Alex seemed to come to a similar conclusion and sprawled out on the opposite side of the couch.

"I guess it's for the better though, I'm too tired to leave the country anyway." Alex joked weakly. Jack looked at him in surprise.

"Would you have really left the country? Just so that I could be with Yassen?" Jack asked. Alex shrugged.

"You're the only family I have, Jack, I wouldn't have much of a choice," Alex offered and Jack smiled in thanks.

"Remember earlier on today, oh my, that was today…it feels like week ago, but remember when Yassen and I were talking together?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," Alex responded.

"We were going to break up anyway, you know…" Jack sighed, "It seems kind of silly, if we had only broken up a week earlier we might have avoided all of this."

"A week earlier we were in France playing football and going on eight mile jogs," Alex studied her curiously, "I'm surprised though…I thought you loved him and all?"

"I did," Jack bit her lip in distress and Alex could see her eyes beginning to water, "I loved you more, Alex, and I guess Yassen and I both agreed that this was the only way it could have ended."

Jack choked half way through her sentence and rubbed her arm roughly across her eyes. She still had the same shirt on that she had worn earlier that day. She'd been too tired to change clothes. After an awkward pause, Alex finally broke the silence.

"What?" He snorted in amusement, "Being trapped in a cell for eight hours without food and water? I doubt anyone could have guessed that!" Jack burst into laughter, rubbing her eyes. They were red and swollen from crying.

"Thanks, Alex." She sighed.

The next hour they spent lying on the couch talking about the most useless of things. Tom Harris' new girlfriend, football, films they wanted to see the following week, and Jack's calamari pasta recipe. Eventually their chatter died off and they drifted to sleep on the small couch in living room.

---

A/N: The next chapter is the last one…it's going to be an epilogue of sorts. It's a bit of a bittersweet moment for me anyway. I was determined to get this chapter up before I headed off to the beach, so I won't be able to reply to any reviews or update until I get back! Reviews, as always, are much loved! :)


	12. Slipping Away

"Alex, take it up the field!" Tom swung his leg back and shot off a beautiful pass in Alex's direction. Alex skillfully dribbled it between his feet and brought his foot around in a wide ark, sending the ball in the direction of the goal just before a defender reached his position. The ball soared through the air and into the corner of the goal. Tom cheered as another point was added to the scoreboard.

"Good job, Alex! Nice assist, Tom!" Alex subconsciously picked up on the American accent that called to him from the sidelines. Tom, breathing heavily, nudged Alex in the side and winked.

"I think she has a thing for me...now that Yassen Russianorovich, or whatever his name was, is out of the picture," Tom, conveniently forgetting that he already had a girlfriend, said as they resumed their position. Alex felt a twinge of annoyance with his best friend. Reminding himself quickly that Tom was only kidding, he resisted the urge to correct Yassen's name. He was interrupted by the shrill blow of a whistle as the other team called a timeout. They jogged steadily over to the beach, resuming their previous conversation.

"Yeah...she was really down about it for a while." Alex tried to act casual. He carefully concealed the fact from his best friend that he had been just as disappointed as Jack.

"So, what happens now? Does MI6 ship him back to Russia?" Tom asked, curious as usual when it came to matters involving Alex's part time job.

"Yeah, right, I highly doubt that." Alex snorted.

"What? Do you think they'll kill him?" Tom said, louder than he had intended. The two friends looked up, only to discover that they were surrounded by gaping mouths and raised eyebrows. As team captain, Tom quickly recovered, "As I was saying to Alex...we may have a lead, but we can't get cocky. We need to _kill _them...figuratively of course, I don't know what you all were thinking...after all, we came here to play football, not sit on the bench and cheer like a bunch of pansies. Right, Sean?"

Sean dropped the tray of water bottles he was holding with a loud thud. A few snickers could be heard from the rest of the team. Sean looked like he was about to say something particularly unpleasant, but Tom quickly cut him off.

"Alright, cheer on three then?" Tom grinned and the rest of the team followed suit, cheering loudly as they regained the field.

"Nice save," Alex muttered to Tom as he jogged past him.

"Anytime, Alex!" Tom winked. The rest of the game seemed a blur to Alex. He remembered kicking and running and eventually winning, but for the most part his mind remained focused on Yassen. He had been frankly more worried about how the situation would effect his spying activity (now that Jack had a visa) and he hadn't thought about what exactly would happen to Yassen. He knew that the Russian had planned to turn himself in to MI6, he had learned that much from Yassen's letter, but what happened afterward was a complete guess to Alex. He could only assume death or life in prison. Neither one sounded particularly pleasant.

"Alex!" Jack was walking across the field towards him as he packed up his cleats. He had a sudden sense of Deja vu, remembering the last time Jack had walked across the field she had a certain Russian assassin by her side. Alex wondered if Jack was having similar thoughts. He could guess by her thoughtful expression that she was.

"Hey, Jack, did you enjoy the game?" He slung his bag over his shoulder and waved goodbye to Tom.

"You did great, Alex." She smiled, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

"Thanks, Jack," The two exchanged few words for the rest of the car ride home. Since Yassen left, Jack had been unsually quiet. It was becoming more and more common that car rides or mealtimes would pass without either Jack or Alex exchanging a word. It was the first time since Ian's death that Alex had seen Jack so uncharacteristically quiet. She sighed as she came to a stop, finally breaking the stagnant pause.

"I was thinking maybe we could go out to dinner tonight, I don't really feel much like cooking." Jack admitted. Alex nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds fine...I'm not really that hungry." He responded, gazing out the window as a rush of oncoming traffic swept by. Finally it was Jack's turn to go. Flicking on her turn signal at the last minute she swerved to the left and drove in the direction of the house. Alex looked at the American questioningly.

"I forgot my wallet," She growled. Alex could tell that she was frustrated with herself. She had always been a bit absentminded before, but the Yassen ordeal had made it even worse.

"It's fine, Jack," Alex tried to calm her down, "I need to change out of my football uniform anyway,"

Jack pulled into the gravel driveway and put the car in park. Unlocking the door, she immediately began searching for her wallet as Alex dashed up the stairs to his room. Stripping off his sweaty jersey, Alex collapsed on the bed. Exhausted, he studied the clock, estimating how long of a nap he could take before Jack found her wallet. He had barely closed his eyelids when the phone began to ring. Sighing, he dragged himself out of bed and pulled on a clean t-shirt. He picked up the phone on it's last ring, and immediately wished he hadn't after the voice on the other line began to speak.

"Hello, this is Crawley. I need to speak to Alex Rider." Alex stood holding the phone for a few seconds, debating whether he should angrily hang up or tell Crawley where exactly he could put his telephone.

"Jack has her own visa now." Alex finally spoke, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"Yes," Alex could hear Crawley's awkward cough clearly over the speaker, "Well...that really is beside the point...nevertheless, Blunt has asked me to call you to his office. He says that you may, um...have Miss Starbright drive you here if you wish...MI6 won't be sending a car this time."

Alex wondered if Blunt felt sorry about locking him in a cell without food or water, and was trying to make up for it by allowing the spy to use a transportation of his own choosing. Blunt obviously didn't feel sorry enough about the incident to leave Alex alone completely, something that Alex had not-so-secretly hoped for after a month of not hearing from MI6. Alex mentally hit himself for forgetting about Blunt's lack of a conscious.

"...in an hour....Alex, um...Alex, are you still there?" Alex hadn't realized that Crawley had been speaking.

"Yeah, sorry, what was that?" He sighed inwardly.

"I said, try to get here in an hour. Blunt has a tight schedule, as you, ah...already know. MI6 is a very busy place." Crawley sounded slightly agitated and Alex quickly got the hint that the agent was trying to get him off the phone. Crawley probably thought himself above scheduling appointments for a teenager.

"Hey Crawley...how's your dog doing?" Alex asked, smirking as he mentally pictured Crawley's expression, "You know...the one I saw before you sent me on the Wimbledon assignment. I'm looking for a bit of extra cash, so if you ever need someone to walk him for you, I'd consider it my duty to the British government. Wouldn't you agree?"

Alex heard the phone click as the line went dead. He hung up the phone angrily and trudged down the steps.

---

Alex ended up taking the metro. He didn't have the heart to ask Jack to drive to the Royal and General after what had happened. She had known from the look on his face that the news had not been good, but fortunately she hadn't asked many questions when he said he needed to go out for a while. She had simply nodded goodbye and told him to give her a call on his mobile when he needed to be picked up. Alex didn't bother to check that he had the right building as he made his way up the steps of the Royal and General. He'd been there so many times that he knew the building by heart. In fact, each time he had come here the scenarios had been so similar he could barely tell them apart. He'd be sent by a receptionist up an elevator to floor sixteen where he'd wait outside of office 1605. Eventually he'd be called in by Blunt himself, and the spy would enter the room to find Mrs Jones standing stiffly next to Blunt in her starched, ugly suit as she chewed on a peppermint. In fact, this was exactly where Alex found himself now.

"Alex, we owe you an apology." Mrs Jones began speaking first, Alan Blunt waiting expectantly next to her. Alex almost snorted in amusement, this was all too typical an introduction. Almost every debreifing with MI6 he had started in a similar fashion, "I can tell you don't believe we're serious, Alex, but truely...we should have never used you in that way."

"But it didn't matter, you went ahead with it anyway." Alex found his previous anger had vanished. He was indifferent to the entire situation. Everything MI6 said was a lie, and there was no use in telling them otherwise.

"Alex, you have to understand," Mrs Jones moved out from behind the desk, almost pleading with the teenager, "We were desperate to get Gregorovich. Desperate enough to take advantage of you in a way that went against MI6's morals."

Alex decided that although it may have gone against their morals, but it certainly didn't go against their ethics. MI6 had a clever way of convincing themselves of the unavoidable necessity of their decisions. Alex wondered what final decision had been made concerning Yassen. He was almost tempted to ask, but he found himself afraid of the answer. The words caught in his throat.

"Is that the only reason you called me here...to apologize?" Alex quickly recovered, hoping Mrs Jones hadn't noticed his struggle.

"No, Alex," Blunt spoke on cue, dropping the compassion and taking over the business portion of Mrs Jones' speech. Alex began to feel like he was trapped in the script of some strange television drama. Mrs Jones and Alan Blunt had carefully rehearsed their lines, "The reason we brought you here is to give you a decision you haven't properly had since your uncle died."

Alex suddenly felt unsteady on his feet as a wave of dizziness rushed over him. This was something entirely new.

"We are giving you the option. You can walk out of Royal and General Bank and forget about MI6. You can live a normal life, play sports, grow up to be a footballer or whatever it is you so desire...or, you can remain with MI6 and continue to work for us," Blunt finished. He watched Alex carefully through his outdated thick-rimmed glasses.

"I could never live a normal life. Not after what I did as part of MI6." Alex stated bluntly.

"I know it's hard, Alex, but this choice is your own." Mrs Jones gave him an understanding glance.

Alex stood perfectly still, a jumble of thoughts whirling through his head all at once. He wished that Blunt would disappear so that Alex could run to the Brookland school and kick his football up against the brick wall. It was too much to think about. Even worse, his final decision came to him all too easily.

"I want to stay a spy." The words came out before Alex could stop them. Blunt seemed emotionless as ever, but Mrs Jones looked as though she'd been anticipating his answer. Alex took advantage of their silence and quickly continued, "But...I'm sick of missing so much school and football practice. I only want to go on missions during my school breaks, and if for some reason I would miss any school, I want someone at MI6 to develop a better reason than 'sicknes'...ask Smithers, he's clever enough. Lastly, and most importantly, I don't want to _ever_ find out that my house has been bugged...that's not fair to Jack or to me."

There was a short pause until Blunt finally broke it.

"Is that everything?" Blunt asked dryly. Alex nodded, "Well then, expect to hear from us sometime around winter break. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Alex."

Alex left the office. After he shut the door, he remained standing in the hallway for a couple of minutes, engrossed in his own thoughts. He didn't notice the door opening behind him and Mrs Jones stepping out into the hallway until she had placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Is everything alright, Alex?" She asked.

"This is going to kill Jack..." Alex didn't bother to turn around and face the deputy head of special operations.

"She'll understand, Alex...it's what you want to do. She just doesn't want to see you get hurt." Alex didn't respond and Mrs Jones withdrew her hand, "I'll walk down to the lobby with you."

Shivering even though the building was heated, Alex pulled on his fall coat as he stepped inside the elevator with Mrs Jones and another MI6 agent. Alex had to give the man credit, he didn't even look twice at the fourteen year old boy standing in the elevator. The lift stopped on the eighth floor and the man nodded goodbye to Mrs Jones as he exited into the hallway. As Alex stood, waiting for the doors to close, a figure strode past the elevator. Alex didn't need a second glance to place a name to the blond hair and pale faced Russian who was deep in conversation with agent Crawley. Alex was tempted to rush out, but the elevator doors were already beginning to close.

"Yes, as I was saying, Blunt will be wanting to debrief you so be sure to set up an appointment..." Alex was barely listening to what Crawley was saying, his eyes were fixed on the all too familiar Russian assassin that was walking, unguarded nevertheless, through the hallways of MI6. Yassen seemed to sense that someone was staring at him because he glanced over his shoulder. He seemed less shocked that Alex, and almost a touch amused. Alex recovered and took a step towards him, only to find that the elevator doors had slammed shut in front of him. He turned to Mrs Jones, expecting an explanation.

"MI6 is always on the lookout for potential talent." Mrs Jones said no more as the elevator opened on the ground floor. As Alex made his way down the steps of the Royal and General Bank, he suddenly felt entirely confident in his decision. He pulled out his mobile and dialed Jack's number, but thought better of it and snapped his phone shut. The cool air was fantastic, perfect for playing football and walking home during the evening.

He realized for the first time since his uncle had died earlier that year, he felt like everything had fallen into place. Jack was still husband-less and Alex was still fatherless. He was still a spy for MI6 and he still hadn't managed to make up all the Biology homework he had missed, but he found assurance in the thought that everything would work out. Jack seemed to share in his confidence. When Alex came home, Jack (apparently forgetting about not wanting to cook) had a delicious portion of grilled vegetables waiting for him on the table. It was the first time he'd seen her cook since Yassen had left. They talked long after they finished dinner, the awkward silences disappearing to where they had almost never existed. They finished the night by watching a comedy film Jack had rented from the library, and for once Alex felt like his life was almost as he wanted it to be.

Not exactly, but definitely close.

---

A/N: Sorry to make you all wait so long, I was in a canoeing accident...lol, just kidding...I was in a canoeing accident but that's not the reason I was so lazy in updating! It's a bit of a bittersweet feeling now that the story is over, but I did want to give it a semi-happy leave-the-door-open-for-speculation ending before I concluded it. I hope the epilogue didn't kill it. I really enjoyed all the helpful, encouraging, and sometimes hilarious reviews I got...it made writing even more entertaining. And on that note I bid you all goodnight! :)


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